


Anti-Abstinence April

by alkjira



Series: Prompty Goodness [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Attempted Seduction, Beards (Facial Hair), Before Battle, Cunnilingus, Desperation, Domestic, Double Penetration, Dream Sex, F/F, F/M, Fingerfucking, First Time, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Kissing, Light Bondage, Lingerie, Love at First Sight, M/M, Magic, Makeup, Makeup Sex, Multi, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Not Really Character Death, Oral Sex, Pygmalion, Rain Sex, Rimming, Ritual Sex, Rule 63, Safe Sane and Consensual, Semi-Public Sex, Single Parents, Smut, Spies & Secret Agents, Threesome - F/F/F, Threesome - M/M/M, Timeline Shenanigans, Trans!Ori, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Undercover, Vaginal Sex, fem!Bilbo, fem!Kili
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 35,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3659955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smut!<br/>This time it’s not always kink as prompts, more like, a word, and then free association *nods*<br/>Still aiming to be smutty indeed!<br/>Just how smutty will vary depending on my brain *nods again*<br/>Various pairings etc. every chapter is it's own story</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Perfection - Bilbo/Thorin/Dwalin

**Author's Note:**

> Doing this against better judgement as April might end up being a busy month for me as it isssss…
> 
> Check out Hobbit Big Bang! :D
> 
> http://hobbitstory.livejournal.com/
> 
> But yeah, goal is one story/day.

Bilbo hummed into the kiss, pressing up against Thorin’s lovely, solid body, wanting more, wanting it _now_. Wanting less clothes too.  
  
Sadly that was going to have to wait because for either of them to get undressed would mean that he’d have to stop touching Thorin. At least for a few moments, and that seemed like a truly _horrible_ idea.  
  
“Shh,” Thorin whispered as Bilbo moaned and tightened his legs around Thorin’s hips. “There’s no-“  
  
The door to the bedroom opened and Thorin paused and considering that it could really only be one person Bilbo decided to take advantage of Thorin’s distraction.  
  
Dropping his legs down to the bed Bilbo planted his feet firmly on the mattress, still keeping his knees as high as possible. Then it was just a matter of thrusting his hips up as hard as he could while at the same time throwing his body weight to one side.

The surprised look on Thorin’s face when he found himself on his back on the bed with Bilbo suddenly straddling him would be something Bilbo would always cherish.

“Nicely done,” Dwalin said approvingly as he closed the door behind him. “Just like we practiced.”  
  
“Practiced?” Thorin asked, his hands coming up to hold Bilbo’s waist, sliding up inside his shirt as Bilbo began to mouth kisses against his neck.  
  
“Never know when a move like that will come in handy,” Dwalin said and Bilbo could hear him walking closer to the bed.  
  
“Take off your clothes,” Bilbo ordered before reverting his attention to Thorin’s neck, gently tugging on a dark lock of hair to tilt his head back until the perfect spot revealed itself.  
  
“You’ve not fed him today?” Dwalin teased, as Bilbo scraped his teeth against Thorin’s skin, making him hiss.  
  
“We’ve had a lovely dinner, thank you,” Bilbo mumbled. He flicked his tongue over the same spot, grinding down against Thorin when his hands slid down from his waist to cup and squeeze his arse. “That _someone_ missed.”  
  
“’s not like I was late,” Dwalin protested, and Bilbo really hoped that the rustling of cloth meant that he was indeed getting undressed. “You knew I’d miss it.”  
  
“What he means is that _we_ still missed _you_ ,” Thorin said, and Bilbo shivered from the low rumble of his voice.  
  
Dwalin chuckled. “Seems you were doing fine without me.”  
  
“Bed’s too big,” Bilbo complained, tugging at the neck of Thorin’s shirt to try and reveal some of his chest. Perhaps there were more perfect spots to find.  
  
“If it was smaller you’d have ended up on the floor trying to flip Thorin.”  
  
“ _Trying_ ,” Bilbo protested, turning around and narrowing his eyes at Dwalin. “I did it. And you’re still wearing trousers.”  
  
“And you’re still fully dressed,” Dwalin pointed out as he walked over the bed, putting one hand on Thorin’s thigh and sliding other up Bilbo’s shirt, spreading his fingers over the small of his back. “Couldn’t you’ve-“  
  
“No,” Bilbo said, squirming. “We couldn’t.”  
  
“ _You_ couldn’t,” Thorin said, and he sounded entirely too amused. The groan after Bilbo bit his neck on the other hand, very lovely.  
  
When Dwalin pulled his hand away Bilbo whined low in his throat. “Don’t stop touching me.”

“Just getting my kit off, then we’ll get you off.”  
  
“Want you to take me,” Bilbo murmured as he rubbed his jaw against Thorin’s beard. “Both of you in me.”  
  
“Not at the same time,” Thorin said, lifting his hand to cup Bilbo’s face. “You’ve not the patience for it today.”  
  
“I’ll have you know I can be very patient,” Bilbo sniffed as he tugged on Thorin’s shirt again. Stupid shirt, why was it not magically disappearing. Didn't it know it wasn't wanted?  
  
“Yeah, we can see that,” Dwalin said, and the bed dipped as he got on it. “That’s why people are going to be looking at Thorin’s neck tomorrow and wonder what mauled him.”  
  
“I don’t mind,” Thorin said, ghosting his thumb over Bilbo’s bottom lip.  
  
“I’ve not _mauled_ him,” Bilbo muttered, but it was hard to remaining in a huff when he got distracted by the vast expanse of naked Dwalin stretching out on the bed next to them.  
  
“I feel abandoned,” Thorin said drily when Bilbo scrambled off him to spend some quality time with Dwalin’s chest.  
  
“Take off your clothes,” Bilbo suggested even as he leaned down to flick his tongue over a dark nipple, petting Dwalin’s chest in approval when the little nub immediately pebbled in greeting.  
  
“And _your_ clothes?” Dwalin asked, cupping the back of Bilbo’s head, tugging gently at his curls. “I could help you with ‘em.”  
  
And he did, as did Thorin, because as Bilbo kept getting somewhat distracted by Dwalin, and also by Thorin showing more and more skin, Thorin was quicker in removing his own clothes.  
  
“This is not the fastest way of doing things,” Thorin pointed out as he tugged at Bilbo's trouser legs.  
  
“If you want to ask Gandalf for a spell to make clothes disappear, be my guest,” Bilbo said as he wriggled down against Dwalin, now spread out on top of him, chest against chest. "Just teach it to me too."  
  
“At least stay still,” Thorin sighed and continued to tug.  
  
Finally they were all naked and Bilbo looked between his two lovers, fingers twitching at his sides as he knelt in the middle of the bed. “I would like to have more hands.”  
  
“I’ll lend you mine?” Dwalin offered with a grin, one big hand trailing down Bilbo’s back, giving his arse a friendly squeeze.  
  
“Mmm, start with your fingers?”  
  
“How about mine, while you sate your appetite with Dwalin’s cock?” Thorin suggested.

Oh.  
  
“Yes, please,” Bilbo said, licking his lips and swallowing,. “Yes, I’d like that.”  
  
“Knew you were looking for something to stuff in your mouth,” Dwalin teased, and Bilbo flicked his nipple. "Didn't enjoy your dinner after all?"  
  
“Behave.”  
  
"No mauling."  
  
"Behave and there'll be none."

And Dwalin did behave, he was so good for Bilbo, trying so hard not to move his hips as Bilbo licked and sucked and yes, occasionally _nibbled_ on his thick cock. The nibbling wasn’t always intentional, but that was entirely Thorin’s fault. It wasn’t like Dwalin minded a little bit of teeth anyway. And Bilbo enjoyed him enjoying it as it prompted the most delicious sounding hisses and rumbles, and barely constrained twitches of his hips.  
  
And Thorin's fingers, all of his hands really, were just wonderful. At the moment Bilbo held particular fondness for the two gorgeously slick ones pumping and twisting inside of him. But Thorin's other hand, stroking and petting his back and sides and anywhere Thorin could reach were also lovely and made Bilbo feel like melting at the same time his cock got stiffer and stiffer.

When Thorin curled his fingers just _so_ , Bilbo and Dwalin groaned at almost the same time; Dwalin's groan a split second after Bilbo's.  
  
“You did want both of us,” Thorin murmured, rubbing the tips of his fingers against that spot for a moment before pulling back out, but stopping at the widest part of his knuckles, keeping Bilbo spread. Not filled though, and Bilbo squirmed impatiently and contemplated abandoning Dwalin's cock for long enough to lodge a complaint. “We’re both inside you now. Do you want that? Dwalin in your throat, and me here?”  
  
A third finger nudged at Bilbo’s opening and Bilbo moaned, trying his best to make it sound encouraging.  
  
Later, when Thorin’s cock began to nudge into him Thorin held Bilbo’s hips as to not accidentally shove him down onto Dwalin, and Dwalin cupped Bilbo’s head for the same reason.  
  
All Bilbo had to do was hold himself up (which admittedly was more difficult than it sounded with knees wanting to be jelly) and allow Thorin and Dwalin stuff him full of cock on both ends. One of them always inside, never leaving him wanting.

It was perfect.


	2. Embarrassing   - Dís/Bofur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was not the smoothest of relationships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild squick in the two bits following the Harry Potter reference

It was not the smoothest of relationships, but since it’d started with Dís accidentally spilling her soda on Bofur, well, perhaps that was to be expected.  
  
After that, well, it was just one thing after the other.  
  
“You’re dating a minor?” Dís’ mother asked, looking at her with wide brown eyes.  
  
“A _miner_!” Dís repeated. “Works in a mine? You know, big hole in the ground kind of thing?”  
  
“You’re dating a _miner_?” her father asked, brow furrowing. “That’s- what’s wrong with that nice boy your aunt-“  
  
“Because I don’t like that ‘nice boy’ half as much as I do Bofur,” Dís said and glared at her father.  
  
“Hmmrf,” Thráin said. “Well, just remember he won’t be available forever. He’s a _doctor_.”  
  
“Duly noted,” Dís sighed.  
  
-  
  
She didn’t have to introduce him to Frerin.  
  
“Yeah, we, kinda slept together once,” Frerin said and rubbed the back of his neck. “Unless it’s a big coincidence and there are loads of people named Bofur working up at the iron ore mine.”

“Hat?” was all Dís said, and Frerin winced. Which was answer enough.  
  
-  
  
And Thorin…

-

“How on earth do both my brothers know my boyrfriend?” Dís shook her head. “Don’t tell me you’ve slept with him too.”  
  
“No, I know his cousin very well, Bifur. And-”  
  
“Did you sleep with his cousin?” Dís asked, narrowing her eyes.  
  
Thorin glared back. “Of course not.”  
  
“What, not good enough for you?” Bofur had talked quite lot about his cousin, and he seemed like a big darling.  
  
“No, but-“ Thorin made a frustrated noise. “Why on earth is this relevant.”  
  
He had a point.  
  
Later Dís learnt that Thorin had in fact slept with Bofu’s best friend Bilbo, several times and at great length. But that’s another story.  
  
-  
  
Other people had a way of misunderstanding things too.  
  
-

  
“You forgot this,” Dís said and handed Bofur a sock. “I don’t mind if you leave things but dirty socks…”  
  
“Ah,” Bofur grinned and clutched the sock at his chest. “Mistress has given Bofur a sock, Bofur is free!”  
  
“Please do not talk about your extramarital affairs around children,” a rather posh looking man said as he gave them a very dirty look.  
  
“What on earth was that about?” Bofur asked after the man had dragged his kid away.  
  
“Mistress, I guess,” Dís said and shrugged. “Man’s clearly not read his Harry Potter.”  
  
Which was ironic since he looked so much like a Malfoy, but whatever.  
  
-  
  
“You’re going to beg me for mercy tonight,” Bofur grinned and nudged Dís’ shoulder.  
  
“Pfft,” Dís said. “You’ll cry like a little child when I’m done with you.”  
  
“50 Shades of Grey is a _horrible_ book,” a teenager informed them solemnly as she walked past the bench they were sitting on.  
  
“Um,” Dís said.  
  
“Not inviting her for Mario kart then,” Bofur said and put his arm around Dís shoulders.

-  
  
Not to mention that they had a way of creating their own problems.  
  
-  
  
Kitchen sex sounded like a great idea, and it probably was a great idea. But it should never be combined with chopping jalapeno peppers, as Dís and Bofur found out.  
  
“I’m really, really sorry,” Dís apologised as Bofur cursed beneath his breath as he poured milk on his cock, awkwardly half-perched, half-leaning over the sink . “I didn’t think-“  
  
“Bloody hell it stings,” Bofur winced but managed a wry smile in Dís’ direction. “Hottest handjob I’ve ever got, darlin’. But lesson learnt. No hanky panky in the kitchen when you’re cooking chili. Fuck.”  
  
“You just said we couldn’t,” Dís said and nudged her knee against Bofur’s leg, keeping her hands behind her back. “I really am sorry. Maybe you should try rubbing it with oil instead? I think that’s supposed to make it better. I’d offer to help but…”  
  
Bofur snorted. “Thank you but this is one of the few occasions I’d turn such an offer down.”  
  
“Maybe I could suck you off?” Dís said.

For a moment Bofur looked tempted. Then he winced again and poured more milk on his cock. “Go wash your hands, darlin’. We’ll pick this up some other time.”  
  
-

Bracing her hands on Bofur’s chest Dís shifted until she could feel Bofur’s cock brush up between her legs. Reaching back with one hand she held him steady as she began to sink down, rocking her hips slowly to thoroughly enjoy the sensation.  
  
Watching Bofur’s expression was also very much enjoyable; his eyes flicking between her face, breasts and the point where their two bodies joined as pleasure made his green eyes glazed and soft.

His arms were tied to the headboard with red silk scarfs and sure, that was a cliché, but the red looked incredibly good against Bofur’s golden tan skin and the sprinkling of dark hair on his forearms.  
  
As Dís strained forward to steal a kiss Bofur eagerly leaned forward as much as he could, nipping at her bottom lip and moaning greedily when she returned the favour.  
  
“Never seen anything as beautiful as you,” he groaned, arms and hands twitching with the need to reach out and touch and take. “Dís, love, you’re bloody amazing. You feel so good.”  
  
“So do you,” Dís murmured as she rose up and sank back down again, the slide slick and easy with how much she wanted it.

Sadly she’d only been allowed to have it for a mere minute or two before Bofur’s eyes widened and he stiffened.  
  
“Did you-?”  
  
“What did I do?” Bofur blurted, face abruptly a lot paler than a moment ago. “Dís, are you- please stop. You’re-“  
  
“-did you come?” Dís asked, confused, because it didn’t feel like that had happened, definitely didn’t look like it, but-  
  
“You’re hurt,” Bofur said, twisting to the side and tugging at the knot of one of the scarves with his teeth, and it easily gave way. “Dís-“  
  
“What? I’m not hurt,” Dís protested. “I’m-“  
  
“You’re _bleeding_.”  
  
“I’m-? Looking down only awarded her with a view of her own breasts at first until she shifted enough to see-  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“I’m sorr-“  
  
“I’ve gotten my period.”  
  
“-rrrrry? What?”  
  
Dís winced. “Yeah, so, well, this is a bit awkward. Good news is that it’s perfectly natural for me to be bleeding from my pussy. You didn’t break me. I’ll just… go and clean up shall I?”

-

Even if Dís hadn’t liked Bofur a lot, perhaps even more than just ‘like’ even though it was a little too early to tell, it would have been worth it for the sex, because when periods and peppers didn’t destroy the mood, it was the best sex she’d ever had.

-  
  
“I could, erm, join you in the shower?” Bofur offered, looking equal parts hopeful and alarmed. Hopefully the alarmed bit was just a left over from thinking that he’d somehow managed to hurt her. Guys who treated periods like they were alien never really lasted long.  
  
“If you want,” Dís said, trying not to make it a big thing because she really wanted Bofur to last long. In her life that was. (Though she had no complaints regarding his stamina in bed either.)  
  
“I want,” Bofur said, stroking his hand down her arm, twining their fingers together. “I want you.”  
  
“That works out well,” Dís smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. “Since I want you too. Let’s get rid of the blood though.”  
  
Bofur snorted. “I’m glad no one is around to overhear and misunderstand or the police would be knocking on the door in a few moments.”

-  
  
Her hands braced against the tiles Dís rocked back into Bofur’s thrusts as the warm water rained down on them both.  
  
“Careful,” Bofur panted as one of Dís’ hands slipped a little. “If we fall and hit our heads or something, it’ll be a really awkward trip to the hospital.  
  
“Worth it,” Dís managed. “Come on, _harder_.”  
  
When Bofur reached around her and started circling two of his fingers around her clit Dís swore and shuddered, bucking between his cock and hand without knowing what she wanted more.  
  
-

Bofur wasn’t the type of guy to fall asleep right after sex, which was a bit inconvenient since Dís most assuredly was that type of _girl_.

“Frerin is a moron since he’s not still sleeping with you,” Dís murmured, sleepily clinging to Bofur’s shoulders as he carried her off to bed. He’d rubbed her dry and helped her with her knickers and a pad and he was a darling and incredible in bed, or shower, or up against the wall, or in the car, or- well, wow,  Frerin really was an idiot.  
  
Bofur’s laugh was warm and fond against her ear. “Thank you, I think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol, yay, second day is done.
> 
> I'm at my parents' place, writing smut, celebrating Easter. *nods* Yup.


	3. Licking - Dwalin/Tauriel

Dwalin pushes her thighs apart, though it doesn’t exactly require much effort for him as Tauriel eagerly spreads them.  
  
“Can I?” he asks and Tauriel nods and bites her bottom lip before she does anything as embarrassing as beg. It’s sweet of him to ask, but considering the speed she got out of her trousers and on the bed she’d think that he’d know the answer already. Not to mention the very obvious damp spot she knows he’ll see on her underwear.

Underwear that he’s hooking thick fingers into, slowly dragging them down, and Tauriel raises her hips to help.  
  
When they’re no longer in his way Dwalin dives right in, and Tauriel reflexively tries to arch up at the first touch, to press her legs closed around his head to keep him there, but she can’t as strong hands tighten around her thighs, holding her still for him.

He stars by licking at her; long, slow but shallow strokes, from the bottom of her lips up to her clit.   
  
His beard is a sensation somewhere between an itch being scratched and a tickle, and it makes Tauriel writhe and shove two of the fingers of her right hand into her mouth, biting down on the knuckles.

With her other hand she strokes what she can reach of Dwalin’s shoulders, and over his smooth head where she tries to focus on the tattoos and their meanings, and not the hot pleasure building between her legs.

When Dwalin’s lips closes around her clit and he _sucks_ Tauriel’s legs twitch and try to close again; her hand digging into his shoulder without her being aware of it, but Dwalin merely hums (which doesn’t exactly help) and just nudges her legs a little further apart still.  
  
Sliding his hands down Dwalin then uses his thumbs to spread her cunt open for him and stabs her tongue inside, fucking her with it.   
  
It’s amazing and horrible all at once, because she wants _more_ , wants to be filled with something more substantial. And she wants to buck her hips and take it, but can only move a little, and it’s nowhere enough, but she doesn't tell him to stop, doesn't want him to stop.  
  
He keeps it up until her thighs are trembling, only stopping to give some gently attention to her puffy clit which is greedy for each flick of his tongue and each press of lips.

When two fingers are brought into play they sink right inside her like she was made for them and they pump steadily in and out accompanied by slick, lewd sounds as Dwalin focuses all his attention on her little nub, making it impossible for Tauriel to contain her moans and whimpers.

A careful scrape of teeth and his fingers curling upwards does it and Tauriel groans and curses as she falls over the edge, feeling her inner muscles greedily clasp for his fingers as the fireworks goes off in her stomach and head and explodes her body in a white rain of sparkles.

“Lunch,” Tauriel says some time later, rolling the word around in her mouth. It feels familiar. Like she’s heard of it a long, long time ago. What does it matter when her nipples are stiff against the shirt she's still wearing and shivers are still coursing through her body. She- “Oh. Right, we were going out for lunch.”  
  
“I’ve already eaten,” Dwalin smirks, wiping at his chin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone want to know how Swedish people celebrate Easter? ;)  
> It's not actually by writing smut
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zurWFVMw8OU


	4. Kissing - Nori/Fíli/Kíli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You just killed a dragon to save us. It was the most amazing thing I’ve seen and you’re so pretty and-“ Kíli flailed her hands at them. “How could sleeping together possibly be a bad idea?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fantasy AU (erm, or canon AU I suppose)  
> Rule 63  
> Sibling incest

"This," Nori murmured between the kisses she was trading with Fíli." -is probably a terrible idea."  
  
“Yeah,” Fíli breathed, her blue eyes dark and heavy lidded, lips pink and wet and oh so lovely. “Probably.”  
  
“Are you kidding?” Kíli asked, pausing her squirming attempts to undo the small buttons on the back of her dress. “You just killed a dragon to save us. It was the most amazing thing I’ve seen and you’re so pretty and-“ Kíli flailed her hands at them. “How could sleeping together possibly be a bad idea?”  
  
Nori snorted and pulled away from Fíli after one more kiss. “Because the two of you are princesses and I’m a thief that just happened to pass by and then I got lucky. That doesn’t mean I should get _lucky_.”  
  
“Aunt Thorin isn’t going to like this,” Fíli sighed, but she didn’t budge an inch from Nori’s side, and her hands didn't budge an inch from Nori's arse.  
  
“Pfft,” Kíli said. “Nori’s a hero now. And princesses can totally marry heroes.”  
  
Nori blinked and looked to Fíli who shrugged one shoulder.   
  
“You don’t have to marry us but… well, it’s tradition.” The blonde looked down before meeting Nori’s eyes again. “You don’t have to sleep with us either of course.”  
  
“But it’s tradition?” Nori asked, raising one eyebrow.  
  
“Someone please get me out of this stupid dress before I take a knife to it,” Kíli demanded.  
  
“We don’t follow _all_ traditions,” Fíli admitted.   
  
“I don’t know,” Nori said as she reached out and snagged Kíli’s sleeve and dragged the princess in between herself and Fíli, curling her arms around a waist each. “Some traditions are very important.”

-  


Lying naked between two beautiful princesses was not an experience Nori had had before, but if the gods were good it was one she’d have again, well, at least once, before their aunt killed her for doing unmentionable things to her heirs.   
  
Lying next to them was almost even better as Nori could look her fill as the two sisters kissed and caressed each other. Her two bed partners were both gorgeous, but in very different ways; Kíli being dark and almost slender, while her sister Fíli had golden hair and skin, and ample chest and hips.

Kíli mashed their lips together seemingly without any other thought than to get as close as possible to Fíli. She did the same with the rest of her body, having previously straddled Fíli’s waist, and both of them moaned when Nori’s hands came into play between them, teasing their nipples and petting, stroking and caressing every bit of skin she could reach.  
  
No one said a word, but suddenly Nori found that she was the focus of two intent gazes, one blue and one brown, and in the next few moments she had her arms full of Kíli, and a curious tongue dipping in between her lips, inviting hers to come and explore.  
  
“I’m so glad it was you who killed the dragon,” Fíli said, mostly to Nori’s breasts as that’s where she’d headed. Nori groaned when a wet mouth latched on to her left nipple, quickly teasing it into hardness.  
  
“I’m sure Thorin won’t kill you,” Kíli said earnestly and Nori laughed throatily, throwing her head back against soft pillows. “No, really,” Kíli continued whilst pressing kisses down Nori’s neck. “If she even think about it I’ll tell her that I’ll run off with the next Dragon who even comes close to Erebor. And then she’ll be sorry. Oh, you have freckles here.”  
  
“I think I’ll be sorrier as I’ll be dead,” Nori pointed out, even though she was fairly sure she’d be able to escape any dungeon she was thrown into. She curled her hands into blond and black hair and tugged lightly, making both princesses look up at her. “I’m not sorry now though.”  
  
The grins she received were well worth possible death, which admittedly was a bit worrying in and of itself.


	5. Impossible Love - Bard/Lindir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prostitution themes, and at one point an OMC is being what I would call creepy. But no non-con, no dub-con.  
> bit of a mention of blood, but nothing graphic

“Hey, you there?”

Lindir had already heard the car stop and now he looked up.  
  
“Do you have anywhere to go?”

The man had shoulder-length dark hair, and a short neatly trimmed beard. If his hair was black or just dark brown was not possible to tell with the glaring yellow light from the street lamp shining down on them both and the car.  
  
He was dressed in a fairly expensive looking suit and appeared to be in his thirties, and above all he looked rather nervous.  
  
He kept looking around as if someone would come along and scold him, so it was probably his first time picking someone up at a street corner. However it didn’t look like the kind of tension that would lead to the police being involved, which was good as Lindir had no wish to deal with the police.  
  
As Lindir started to walk towards him he noticed to his surprise that the man didn’t wait for him to come closer and instead got out of the car, even closing the door behind him.

“I could go with you?” Lindir said, a little cautiously. He didn’t like when people did not behave as he expected them to. The man were supposed to stay in the car and wait for him to come to them. At least he'd not moved away from the car, but it was still strange.

“No I mean-“ The man winced. “Somewhere to  _sleep_. Do you have somewhere to sleep?”

“I would like to sleep with you,” Lindir tried.  
  
He looked normal enough. Handsome, and even like he'd be nice. And his voice had been rather lovely. All of this led Lindir to wonder if this meant trouble. The mean-looking ones where easy enough to deal with, and the ones that called him names too, no surprises. But the nice ones… with those you never quite knew.  
  
“No. Bloody hell,” The man ran a hand down his face. “All right, how much would you charge for a night? A whole night.”  
  
Lindir hesitated a little before answering. “600.”  
  
“Oh, well I don’t have that kind of cash on me, but-“  
  
“If you use a condom it’s 500,” Lindir said, gently biting down on his bottom lip, and sure enough the man’s eyes flicked down before they met his again, and a small flush appeared on his cheeks.

“Fucking Jesus Christ on a bike,” The man groaned as he leaned back against his car. “I’m not- Fuck, I'm so bad at this. What I'm trying, and obviously failing, to convey here is that I'd like to pay you money for you to go somewhere and sleep. Alone,” he added when Lindir gave him a sceptical look. “No tricks.”

“Why?” Lindir asked, now feeling very confused.

“You're how old? Early twenties? 25 at most? I've got a boy who’s 15, and two girls younger than him. That either of them would be out here in half a few years-“ The man shook his head. “And don't try and make it sound like you want to be here. No one ends up on a street corner unless it’s a last resort.”  
  
To be entirely honest Lindir was more than a little stunned. This had never happened before. Sometimes there were people from the local church and social workers but not this.  
  
“I- Um, what’s your name?”  
  
Immediately after asking the question Lindir wondered why he’d done such a thing. What purpose did he think it would serve? But at least it seemed to lessen some of the tension in the man’s shoulders.  
  
“Oh, I'm Bard. You don't have to tell me yours if you don't-“

“My name is Lindir.”  
  
The man, Bard, he had a very nice smile.  
  
“Nice to meet you, Lindir. Look, I can either go and get the money and you'll wait here for me, I promise I'll come back. Alone. Or you can come with me to the nearest ATM and then I'll give you a ride to wherever you want to go. But if you don’t want to get into the car with me that’s no problem.”

“You don’t need to do this,” Lindir said, shaking his head. “I promise I’m-“  
  
Bard frowned. “Don’t try and tell me you’d be out here if you didn’t feel like it was the only option. Lindir, please let me do this for you.” He snorted. “It’s obviously not much, and if there’s something else I can do? I know it's none of my business but are you here because you're using drugs? A friend runs a rehabilitation clinic and I could-“

“No drugs,” Lindir shook his head. He had a feeling that nothing he said would convince Bard that he was actually fine so he might as well go along with it. If they stood around like this for much longer one of the young men further down the street would see him and wonder what they were doing. “And all right, I’ll come with you.  
  
“So, where do you want to go?” Bard asked when they’d both gotten inside the car. “If there’s an ATM on the way there we could- I mean, I could get your money. I don’t really know this neighbourhood. I was just coming from a meeting with a patient, I'm a doctor, and-“  
  
Lindir sat quietly as the man rambled on for a while, trying to make sure that he’d not been lying before. But he seemed sincere enough and when there was a small pause Lindir suggested that he could drop him off at the shelter by the eastern bridge.  
  
“A shelter?” Bard’s jaw tightened a little. “And you’re not using drugs? I’m- it’s really none of my business, but surely you could- I mean, don’t you have money to pay rent? If you are using drugs I promise I’ll not call the cops on you, my friend could-“  
  
“I’m not using anything,” Lindir said, rolling up the sleeves of his jacket to show the smooth skin of his arms. “See.”  
  
“You-“ Lindir did not miss how Bard swallowed rather abruptly. Or how his voice had turned a little hoarse when he continued to speak. “You're very pale, you'd need some sun.”  
  
“I usually sleep during the days,” Lindir said with a small smile.  
  
-  
  
He stayed in the car while Bard got the money from the ATM.  
  
“Here,” Bard said, handing the bills over as he slid into the driver’s seat again. “600. Now we can-“  
  
“I'd like to do something for you,” Lindir said, not letting go of Bard’s hand, and instead brushing his thumb over the side of one of Bard’s fingers. The man’s eyes widened.

“No, no. Not necessary. You're very beautiful but-“ The blush returned when Lindir stroked his finger again. “ _No_ ,” Bard repeated, more firmly this time. “Thank you, but no.”

“I would enjoy it,” Lindir said softly, letting Bard take his hand back but leaning a little closer. The blush on Bard’s cheeks deepened.

“No. I'm, no.”  
  
He _would_ be able to convince him, he was sure of it, and Lindir _was_ tempted. But in the end he decided that it was best not to.  
  
“You don’t need to take me to the shelter, I can just-“  
  
“I said I’d take you,” Bard interrupted him, turning the car back on again. “So I’ll take you.”  
  
For the rest of the drive Lindir sat quietly and just watched him. Well, watching and wondering at his own actions.  
  
The tension was back in Bard’s shoulders, but it was tension of a slightly different kind. And the blush lingered all the way until Bard stopped on the street outside the shelter.

“Thank you,” Lindir said, and Bard opened his mouth and then closed it again. He sighed.  
  
“It’s not much, but yeah. I- would you, I’ll- I can give you the card of my friend? If you don’t need it you could always-“  
  
“Bard,” Lindir said. “I’ll be fine.”

The smile he received in response was somewhat wry, but it was still a good smile. “Right. Well, good night then. Make sure you get some sleep. And get a warmer coat, your fingers were-” Bard paused. “Nights can be very cold. Sorry, I don’t mean to-”

“It’s all right. And thank you,” Lindir said, smiling back.

-  
  
A few seconds after he’d buzzed the door Lindir heard the mechanism for the lock click and he grasped the handled and pushed it open. From behind came the sound of Bard’s car driving off; he’d wanted to wait and make sure the shelter hadn’t already closed for the night.  
  
Lindir closed the door behind him but didn’t step any further inside the small house.  
  
After perhaps half a minute or so a middle-aged woman walked out of a room and frowned at Lindir.  
  
“Well, are you-“

“Go back to what you were doing,” Lindir said softly, voice barely louder than a whisper. “There was no one at the door after all.” 

“Damn kids,” the woman muttered, her eyes glazing over a bit. “I'll go back to my crosswords then.”

Then Lindir remembered the money he’d gotten from Bard. “Wait. When you checked the door you found an envelope with a donation to the shelter.” He held out the money for her, nodding when she took it. “Perhaps that's what you heard.”

“Ah, perhaps that's what I heard.” She shook her head, brown and grey curls dancing softly around her shoulder. “Some people, too shy to even say hello. Bless them all the same.”

Lindir smiled faintly and nodded at her before opening the door and leaving.

-  
  
It was later than usual when he got back to the same street corner. 

He could have gotten there faster but it wouldn't do to call any undue attention to himself. A city this size never slept and you never knew how many eyes would be watching. Besides, there was no particular hurry. Dawn was many hours away still. 

He'd however not been there for long when a new car stopped. And this time with someone who'd suit his purposes very well.

"Wanna go for a ride with daddy?" the man asked, not even bothering to look him in the eyes and instead greedily taking in Lindir’s slender build, emphasised by his skinny jeans and the thin shirt and jacket he wore.

Nodding meekly Lindir got closer to the car and opened the door, sitting down gracefully. The car smelled like greasy food, sweat and sex, and Lindir just barely stopped himself from wrinkling his nose. Bard's smell had- but no, that wasn’t something he should be thinking about.  
  
-

The man parked the car in the middle of an empty asphalt square outside a super market, fiddling with his seat until it slid back.

"Want to give daddy a special kiss?"

Lindir nodded and the man grinned, his small eyes glittering greedily as he freed his half-hard erection from his trousers. He reached over and took Lindir’s hand and Lindir allowed himself to be tugged closer.

"You will call me-" the man began to say, but it turned into a surprised squeak when Lindir covered his mouth with one hand, using the other to tilt his head to the side.  
  
He didn’t even have time to understand what exactly was happening before Lindir’s teeth sunk into his neck, and the moment Lindir began to drink the man went limp, slumping against the side of the door and forcing Lindir to change his grip to hold him in place. The man outweighed Lindir by at least 50 pounds but that was of no concern. 

Holding one finger at the base of the man’s neck, on the pulse point, Lindir drank slowly until he could feel the first sign that he'd taken enough blood; a small, barely there shift in the heartbeat.  

As he pulled back the man shuddered and moan, and if Lindir had looked down he would have seen the evidence that the man had very much enjoyed what just had happened even if he wouldn't remember it, but Lindir did not bother lowering his gaze.

“That’ll be 50,” Lindir said when he saw awareness come creeping back into the man’s gaze. His words were laced with a quiet command that was different from what he'd used with the woman at the shelter, but which would work much the same. The man would create his own memories as Lindir had no desire to suggest any to him.

“Ah, yes,” the man blinked. “I- wow, you were good.” 

Lindir just barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “You need to be more careful,” he said instead. “I see you’ve cut yourself shaving,” he explained and touched his fingers to the two small wounds on the man's neck. 

-

The next night Lindir picked another part of town. 

Pretending to be a sex worker was an easy way to get close enough to people that he could feed without arousing suspicion, and also a way to help keep the streets safer for the ones that people like Bard wanted to help.  
  
On the occasions when the man or men wanting to buy his services hadn’t understood the word ‘no’, or when they’d wanted something much more sinister than merely paying someone for a few moments’ pleasure Lindir had made sure they’d not be around any more to bother someone who’d be unable to defend themselves.  
  
He might _look_ like a strong wind would push him over, but if someone tried to take advantage of that they’d quickly learn how wrong they were.

No human was a match to someone like him after all.   
  
-

The next night he decided that moving on to a new area was for the best, both because he didn’t want to collect any regulars; he couldn’t bite someone several times a week, or even several times every month without there being consequences for their health, so he did usually move every so often. Between cities even. And now the change of district would mean that if Bard came back he’d not find Lindir again.

However this did not stop Lindir from thinking about Bard, and that was dangerous. Just as it had been dangerous to get into the car with him instead of just sending him on his way. Bard might have been stubborn but not stubborn enough that a carefully phrased 'suggestion' wouldn't have taken care of it. But Lindir hadn't wanted to do that to him.  
  
As a distraction from his own thoughts Lindir decided to stay away from the streets entirely for a while, and instead he tried to find distractions in night clubs, bars and one night at a concert with the symphony orchestra.  
  
He rarely had cause to wear some of his more elaborate clothes, and the ritual of dressing up in rich fabrics, making sure all buttons were polished and the silk tie without wrinkles, was comforting.  
  
The music was divine, and afterwards Lindir drifted along with the crowd and stopped on the street outside the theatre, smiling to himself and pretending not to notice the admiring looks he received. When he’d still been human no one had hardly looked twice at him, well, except for Haldir.  
  
Haldir. Yes, perhaps Lindir would seek him out. They’d not-

“Well now I'm confused.” The voice was familiar, and startled Lindir turned to see none other than Bard, wearing a dark suit that emphasised his broad shoulders and made discrete mentions of his long legs and slim hips. “Unless you're here with someone?” Bard added, looking behind Lindir and wearing what could only be described as a disapproving and sheepish look.

There were people everywhere around them, and Lindir knew that he had to make Bard forget this, but if someone overheard it could arouse suspicion.

So instead he merely nodded at Bard, and began to walk away from the crowd. He was unsurprised when Bard followed.  
  
The surprise didn’t come until they were more or less alone on a side street, and instead of telling Bard that he’d clearly mistaken him for someone else, a lie that should require very little influence to get him to believe, Lindir found himself confirming Bard’s suspicions.  
  
“I'm not actually a sex worker. I gave your money to the shelter you left me at.”  
  
Lindir blinked. He hadn’t really meant to say that. But now that he had… it felt good. For some reason he didn’t want to deceive Bard, Bard who had tried to do the right thing.

“Who are you then?” Bard asked, and if he’d sounded angry or judgemental or disapproving Lindir would never even have thought of telling him. But he just sounded confused. Confused and… a little curious.

Still, Lindir shouldn't have told him.   
  
Of course he didn't tell him then and there. 

But eventually… eventually he did tell him. Tell him everything.

He shouldn't even have met Bard again after that night. He shouldn’t have allowed him to walk away without manipulating his memories.

He shouldn't have done a lot of things.  
  
There were rules, rules that he’d never even thought about breaking before looking into Bard’s eyes and feeling the warmth of his body standing just a few feet away.  
  
But the thought that he didn't care about the rules had no sooner crossed his mind before it was entirely too late to stop it.  


-

  
_Six months later._  
  
-  


“I'm only allowed to keep seeing you if I turn you, make you like me,” Lindir shook his head. “If I don't they'll kill you if they find out I'm still- Bard... I can't.”  
  
“Shhh,” Bard said, gathering Lindir up into his arms, pulling him close, and Lindir hid his face against Bard’s neck, a small part of his mind noting that Bard didn’t even flinch, that he never flinched.  
  
“I want to,” Lindir confessed miserably. “I never thought I’d get their permission, but now I have it but you can’t- the children. I won’t take you from them.”  
  
“I’d not be allowed to see them,” Bard said, and it wasn’t a question.  
  
“No,” Lindir replied anyway. “Just like I’m- _Bard_.”  
  
“Shh,” Bard said again. “It’ll be all right.”  
  
“It won’t,” Lindir whispered, trying to memorise the smell of Bard’s skin, the exact feeling of his hair sliding between Lindir’s fingers. “I can’t come back. We are not allowed to reveal ourselves to mortals. They don’t know that you already know, just-“  
  
He’d told Lady Galadriel that he was lonely. Normally he’d only have needed to explain to Haldir, and Haldir would have understood, would have given permission, wouldn't have told anyone else until Lindir was ready. But since Haldir hadn’t had the Lady’s permission before turning Lindir then he was not allowed to speak in such matters.  
  
He’d asked the Lady without really thinking that she’d agree, but now that she had Lindir felt like he was drowning.  
  
If he didn’t present someone to them soon they’d begin to check up on him, wanting to know why exactly he’d asked to bring someone into their family without following through. And if they traced his steps to Bard, and if they realised that Bard knew, if they realised just how _much_ Bard knew… They’d kill him.

Humans were not allowed to know. They’d think that he was a threat. They wouldn’t understand.  
  
If Lindir had been able to cry then he’d been making a mess out of Bard’s shirt. _Why_ had he asked. He knew that Bard wouldn’t just abandon his children. He would never ask such a thing, only… that was what he’d done, wasn’t it?  
  
What was it with this man that made Lindir entirely unable to think clearly?  
  
“you could come back in seven years.”

“What?” Lindir asked, meeting Bard’s eyes.

“Tilda will be eighteen then.” Bard shrugged slightly, giving Lindir a small smile, but one that still made it all the way into his eyes. “They’ll be all right on their own by then. If you- could you wait that long?”

“Oh, Bard,” Lindir’s head was spinning. “Of course. But are you sure this is what you'd want to do? If you- the same rules will apply to you. You won't be able to see your children afterwards. Not talk to them at least. They can't know- I'll. I'll come back in seven years. I will find you. But you can change your mind any time. I’ll not tell anyone about you, they won’t-”

“Lindir, you’re rambling,” Bard said and softly tapped a tan, broad finger over Lindir’s mouth. “It’s quite unlike you, and rather adorable, but there’s no need for it. I won’t change my mind. And- well, all parents need to leave their children sooner or later.” He sighed, gently tugging on a lock of Lindir’s hair. “And we can still look out for them a little, right?”  
  
“We can,” Lindir promised, still unable to entirely believe what he was hearing. “Bard- are you-“  
  
“I’m sure,” Bard said, leaning in to brush their lips together. “At least if you are? Who knows what I’ll look like in seven years. I might have gone grey and have a beer belly and-“

“No matter what happens you’ll still be the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen,” Lindir said, a little too heatedly if the shock flashing by on Bard’s face was something to go on.  
  
He didn’t say anything though, just looked at him for a minute, and a minute in the life of someone immortal was nothing, almost less than nothing, but to Lindir it still felt like an eternity.  
  
“I’ll wait for you,” Bard said quietly, reaching up to cup Lindir’s face. “If you don’t come back in seven years I’ll probably spend the rest of my life waiting for you. I- I love you.”  
  
“I love you too,” Lindir breathed, closing the difference between them, covering Bard’s lips with his own, stealing Bard’s breath away before giving it back again. He always tried to be careful when they made love, never wanted to hurt Bard by accident, or at all, but now it was so very difficult to not just reach out and grab and _take_.  
  
-  
  
Lindir also found that his attention kept drifting back to Bard’s neck, and to the strong beat of his pulse just beneath golden skin.  
  
He tried to ignore it, licking and sucking on Bard’s nipples, pressing kisses to the ticklish spots along his ribs, letting Bard press him back into the bed when they’d both undressed to trade more kisses, but even when his mouth was busy Lindir’s hands kept finding its way back, fingers tracing lightly over the fragile skin covering the beat of Bard’s life.

“You can, you know,” Bard murmured, after he’d rolled them so Lindir was on top again, stroking his hand down Lindir’s back as Lindir settled himself in Bard’s lap; half sitting and half leaning over him.  
  
Bard laughed softly. “I’ll miss you doing it. Can we do it after…?”  
  
“Yes,” Lindir whispered. “If you’d want.”  
  
“And now?” Bard asked, lifting his hand to trail his fingers through Lindir’s hair and Lindir nodded, again feeling as if he could cry when Bard smiled and turned his head to the side, trusting him not to go too far, trusting him not to do something he didn’t want just yet.  
  
Knowing it wouldn’t be necessary Lindir still couldn’t resist wrapping his hand around Bard’s cock, his lips twitching at the startled little jump Bard made when Lindir’s comparatively cold fingers wrapped around his heated flesh.  
  
The sound Bard made as Lindir bit him was beautiful, as was the slow shudder he made at the first suck.  
  
“Lindir,” Bard whispered, voice reverent in a way that Lindir was sure he didn’t deserve but greedily wanted anyway.  
  
With his hand around Bard’s cock Lindir quickly brought him to his first climax, and as Bard gasped and spurted over his stomach Lindir kept tugging at him, working him through the aftershocks. Before he could soften Lindir pulled back and after an apologetic flick of his tongue he bit him again. If he could have he would have smiled at the hissed curse that earned him. But considering the way Bard’s hand came up to cup the back of Lindir’s neck it didn’t seem like he minded.  
  
He kept pumping Bard’s cock, slow steady flicks of his wrist, and when Lindir pulled back again it was to find Bard’s face flushed and open, his eyes dark and his lips a deep pink.  
  
“Again,” Lindir said, moving down Bard’s body to drag his tongue up the length of him. “Again, for me?”  
  
Bard groaned and his hips twitched. He spread his legs, making room for Lindir between them and Lindir licked his lips and took the head of Bard’s cock into his mouth.  
  
It didn’t take long for him to spill again and Lindir eagerly drank it all, wanting anything and everything of Bard that he could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm hopeless, I couldn't just let this be impossible-impossible. I think Lindir comes back and that Bard doesn't change his mind. lol, I do think that Lindir at some point considers making Bard forget him but that he ultimately doesn't. And then they live happily ever after, quite literally.)


	6. Comfort - Fíli/Ori, Kíli/Bofur, Dwalin/Óin, Balin/Dori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the last night before the battle. Perhaps… perhaps it was their last night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the prompt is comfort and I add the tag, desperation.  
> Do you think that I might be going about this all wrong, lol

Ori clutched at Fíli’s hair, too hard, but Fíli didn’t even flinch and instead just kept kissing him, stroking his hands up and down Ori’s back, tracing his fingers over the fragile knobs of his spine and trying to soothe the tense shift of muscles as Ori squirmed in his lap.

They’d not gone further than kissing before, but now they didn’t even stop to talk about it before they started to pull and tug at each other’s clothes. Kissing made it hard to talk anyway.  
  
It wasn’t possible to get close enough, and Ori whined into Fíli’s mouth when the blond finally got his hand around both of their cocks, the touch too rough, the slide too dry as neither of them had thought to find any to slick the way, but it was the best thing Ori had ever felt, and still not _enough_.  
  
“Fíli,” he panted, clutching at Fíli’s shoulder, pressing their foreheads together.   
  
“Ori,” Fíli whispered. “Ori, I love you. Whatever happens I-“  
  
Ori made a small sound that as much sob as anything else and ducked his head to kiss Fíli again.

-

 

None of them could ever be quiet while they made love. Which was why Kíli had taken Bofur’s hand and led him what was probably a little too far away from the rest of their company, but he needed this. And he needed Bofur not to worry about being overheard. Besides, it wasn't like Thorin would even notice.  
  
Yeah, to be entirely honest they had enough to worry about as it was, but Kíli pushed all such thoughts aside as he got Bofur to sit down in the one chair that didn’t seem like it’d fall apart if anyone as much as looked harshly at it, and then he knelt down, making room for himself between Bofur’s legs.  
  
“Let me?” he asked when Bofur started to protest. “I want to,” he hurried to add. “Please.”  
  
“I can never say no to you looking at me like that,” Bofur murmured and stroked two fingers down Kíli’s cheek, tangling his hand in dark messy hair.  
  
“Counting on it,” Kíli grinned, and if it wasn’t as bright as usual neither of them mentioned it. “But since what I want is you in my mouth while you tell me just exactly how good I’m making you feel, I think it’ll be rather good for you too.”  
  
“Such a mouth, and on a prince no less,” Bofur said, and Kíli was pleased to note that his voice was already sounding a little strained.

“You love it,” Kíli said as he started to undo Bofur’s trousers laces, making quick work of them.  
  
“I do,” Bofur promised. “I- oh, _Kíli_.”  
  
Kíli smiled up at him as he squeezed his hand around Bofur's length again. “Yes?”  
  
“As if you don’t know,” Bofur breathed, tugging lightly on a lock of hair.  
  
“Tell me anyway,” Kíli said. “I’ll only suck you if you keep talking.”  
  
True to his word he bent his head and licked a stripe up the hard pink shaft, stopping when his lips nudged against the flared head. Opening his mouth he huffed out a warm puff of breath, enjoying the shudder from Bofur that earned him, but he didn’t continue until Bofur groaned and started talking.  
  
“Go on then, Kíli, please suck me, you always- oh _yes_ , like that.”

Mindful of his teeth Kíli took as much of Bofur as he could inside his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he bobbed up and down.  
  
“You look- never seen anything more gorgeous, and the feel of you, just- sometimes you just look at me and I’m all ready for you. Makes it damned inconvenient to ride a pony I’ll tell you.”  
  
The snort Kíli wanted to make came out like a moan, and Bofur’s hips twitched, so he moaned again, pushing Bofur back into the chair, his forearm pressed over Bofur’s hips.  
  
Once Bofur had started Kíli didn’t need to prompt him again, and when Bofur’s hand tightened in his hair, Kíli already knew that he was close, able to tell just from the tight note to his voice.  
  
“Kíli, love, I’m-“  
  
Kíli hummed and pulled back a little, flicking his tongue over the dark-pink cock head, cleaning up the pearls of seed that had already pooled there.   
  
“I want you to,” he said, his own voice raspy and strained. “I’ll swallow it all. Every last drop.”  
  
“Mahal,” Bofur breathed, and Kíli smiled at him before lowering his head again.  
  
-

Despite knowing just the places to touch, and how soft or rough, Dwalin avoided most of them, wanting to drag it out.   
  
It wasn’t his first battle and with a little luck it wouldn’t be his last, and he knew that despite the body being sated it took more to quiet the mind. So the longer he could focus on Óin the longer he didn’t have to think about other things.  
  
And having Óin curse at him for being a damned tease when Dwalin bit at his nipples just a little too softly had the added bonus of making him smile.

It didn’t quite go as planned though when Dwalin suddenly found himself flipped onto his stomach with Óin straddling his legs.  
  
“My turn now,” he growled, pressing his hand over Dwalin’s neck to hold him still. Dwalin thought about making a token protest but when Óin tightened his hand and rocked his erection against the small of Dwalin’s back he allowed himself to spread his legs and go lax, trusting that Óin’s touch would take all his worries away, at least for a while.  
  
-  
  
It was all so new and Dori hadn’t meant to push for something that Balin wouldn’t be comfortable with. He’d just wanted to spend the night by his side, curled into his lovely, solid form, so delightfully soft and hard all at once, with thick muscle hidden away beneath a cushiony layer of chub.   
  
He made Dori feel safe. Amongst other things. Which turned into something of an issue when Dori noticed that parts of him were not at all getting soft and relaxed by Balin’s presence and the soft, gentle kisses they traded back and forth after bedding down together into a nest of furs and blankets.  
  
Dori tried to discretely put some space between them before Balin noticed, but he should have known that it wouldn’t have worked.  
  
“Would you like to stop?” Balin asked, thick fingers so very gently caressing Dori’s cheek, as if he was made of the most precious porcelain.   
  
“We can just ignore it,” Dori said, teeth worrying his bottom lip.  
  
“We can,” Balin said, a small smile quirking his lips. “But I don’t mind if you’d want some help with it. I’d be most delighted in fact.”  
  
Dori was entirely too old to blush, but his body did not seem to be aware of that fact.  
  
“Are you… in a similar state?”  
  
As their chest were still pressed together Dori had the pleasure of feeling the low rumble reverberate into his own when Balin laughed.  
  
“I am indeed, my lovely,” Balin said and stroked a finger along one of Dori’s braids. “But as you said, we can ignore it.”  
  
“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Dori said even as he began to inch closer again.   
  
“I’ll be as uncomfortable as you’re comfortable with,” Balin murmured as he pressed a small kiss to the corner of Dori’s mouth. “Won’t be the first time in my life I go to sleep with cockstand if-“  
  
“Balin,” Dori protested, hiding his face against Balin’s neck, burrowing down into his delightfully soft beard.  
  
“If you can’t talk about something we’ve both admitted that we have,” Balin said, voice amused. “Then-“  
  
“It’s just sounds so vulgar,” Dori huffed.   
  
“I’ve heard some call it a love-pole,” Balin said, and when Dori leaned back to stare at him he winked. “Is that better?”  
  
“Not at all,” Dori sniffed, telling his lips to stop trying to quirk upwards.  
  
“It has also been mentioned to me as a meat sword.”  
  
“You are joking.”  
  
“Bed snake?”

“Now you are making fun of me.”  
  
“Just a little, my lovely,” Balin said, leaning in to rub their noses together. “How about we go back to kissing and you’ll let me know if you want to do something else?”  
  
“That’d be most agreeable,” Dori murmured and covered Balin’s smiling lips with his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Totally not anyone’s last night! Lalalala!)


	7. Falling In Love - Bilbo/Fíli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The premise of this verse is that Hobbits are entirely too focused on making babies, making the other stuff something more or less forbidden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reasons I'm posting tomorrow's story today (and those reasons are wanting to concentrate on the Big Bang stories tomorrow)
> 
> tiny trigger warning: Due to the premise Bilbo has grown up exposed to a culture where homophobia is natural.   
> There is one mention of paedophilia, but that's just a mention, not graphic what so ever and no such thing actually happening.  
> At a certain point Bilbo is not entirely clear if reality is in fact reality or if it is a dream. It’s a very nice dream, so no issue with it as such, but still, you can’t really make an informed choice if part of you thinks that it’s not real. He doesn't think it's a dream for that long though. (in a good way)

There was the long hair like just a lass would have. But… that was a very sad excuse on Bilbo’s part.

Fíli didn’t at all look like a Hobbit lass. Not even from the back, not with his hair bound with silver clasps and intricate braids. Not to mention that Bilbo had never seen a lass with shoulders like that. Or hips like that. Or- and that was quite enough before things got uncomfortable.  
  
Bilbo still wanted him. He had ever since the Dwarf showed up at his doorstep to bow and smirk at him. And he couldn’t have him.   
  
Everyone knew that two lads didn’t go together, that wasn’t how you’d make a baby. But Bilbo still got all tingly inside whenever Fíli flashed a bright smile his way. Be it a blessing or a curse, the Dwarf seemed to have a lot of smiles to spare. While at the same time having no idea what personal space was, and Bilbo was too weak to tell him off when he sidled close and touched his arm when he wanted attention instead of saying something, or even when he went as far as curling his arm around Bilbo’s shoulder, making him press up against that lovely solid warmth, so very much not at all like a Hobbit lass.

”You can _chose_ not to do things. And that’s all right. Everything is all right,” Bilbo told Bofur earnestly, and even to himself he sounded drunk.   
  
Deciding to have a glass of ale had not been a bad idea, but deciding to take it in a glass clearly meant for Men and not Hobbits… that had been a mistake.   
  
Bilbo burped softly. Or well, it wouldn’t be a mistake until the next morning when his head would punish him for it, and at the moment it still seemed like a pretty good idea. Perhaps he should have another.  
  
“Sure,” Bofur said when he suggested it. “If you want Thorin to leave you here tomorrow morning. He’s not going to wait for you if you’re still sleeping it off.”

It was worth considering. If Bilbo stayed in Bree and didn’t continue on the quest then he wouldn’t make a fool of himself with Fíli. Not that he’d do anything untoward, but he… it was hard not to look. And.. erm, _difficult_ to stop his body from reacting when Fíli was close enough that Bilbo could smell the sweet spicy smell of him.   
  
And sooner or later someone would see him looking. It had happened before, not with Fíli of course but-  
  
Bilbo sighed. “I don’t particull-er-ly want to go back.”   
  
Going back would still mean that he’d be alone. Unless he found a lass looking just like… well, that wasn’t going to happen now was it. And even if he did it wouldn't be fair to her.  
  
Bofur snorted. “Good to hear it. Perhaps you’ve had enough then?”  
  
“I’ll help him to his room,” Fíli offered and Bilbo nodded before he realised just who had spoken and what that meant.

Fíli in his room. His room that very likely would include a bed.   
  
“No, no, no,” Bilbo protested, standing up so fast that he swayed and almost fell down. “No, that’s not good.”  
  
“Why?” Fíli asked, looking a little hurt. “I just-“  
  
“I’ll take care of it,” Bofur said and got to his feet. “Discussions can wait until the morning when everyone is sober.”  
  
As they were going up the stairs, Bilbo leaning on Bofur, the Dwarf sighed.  
  
“He’d not- Bilbo, I know you’re drunk. But just so you’d know, he’d not even _try_ to touch you.”  
  
“Of course he wouldn’t,” Bilbo hiccupped. “Because that would be wrong.” And Fíli was perfect. Oh no. He _was_ perfect, wasn’t he. Not just beautiful, but he was nice too. What had Bilbo done to deserve this.  
  
Bofur snorted. “See, you know it. So why wouldn’t you let him help you?”  
  
“Because _I’m_ not perfect,” Bilbo said sadly. He was drunk. What if he'd be weak enough to try and do something after all. That would be bad.  
  
“I’m sure that made sense to you,” Bofur said amicably. “You don’t need to be perfect though. We like you. Some of us more than others,” he added and winked.  
  
“You-“ Bilbo said while poking Bofur in the chest. “Are a good friend. Bofur. You are good.”  
  
“Seeing as I stopped you from drinking more ale I’m inclined to agree with you.”

-

“Bilbo?”  
  
Someone knocked on his door. And Bilbo raised his head from the pillow.  
  
“Hrmm?”  
  
The door creaked open.   
  
“I brought breakfast,” Fíli said, and Bilbo sat up a little too quickly, feeling like his head didn’t quite have time to understand the request for relocation.  
  
Fíli looked… the sun coming in from the window made him _shine_.

He was prettier than any dawn Bilbo had ever seen before. And no sunrise had ever entered his room with rolled up shirt sleeves on bulky arms, tanned arms decorated with fragile looking hairs that shone like gold when the sun caught them and Bilbo’s fingers twitched with the desire to reach out and caress.   
  
Realising that he’d kicked off his blankets during the night Bilbo gulped and quickly pulled them up to his waist, hoping that they’d cover any evidence of just how much he appreciated Fíli choice not to always wear his armour and thicker outer cloak like his uncle did.  
  
Yes, that was good. He _should_ think about Thorin and just how much he’d _not_ appreciate Bilbo exposing Fíli to his ugly perversions.

Being left in Bree would be nothing in comparison to the wrath of an angry Dwarf, that much Bilbo was sure of.  
  
Fíli had of course noticed Bilbo scrambling to get the blankets and he raised an eyebrow.  
  
“I- um, it’s cold?” Bilbo said, despairing at his sad attempt to lie. It wasn’t quite summer yet, sure, but it was anything but cold.  
  
The sigh Fíli made caused Bilbo to flinch and look away.  
  
“I know you talked to Bofur last night,” Fíli said and put the tray with breakfast down on the small table next to the door. “And I swear that he told you the truth. I’m not going to throw myself at you or anything like that.”  
  
“Of course not,” Bilbo said quietly, pulling the blanket a little further up around himself. He had actually started to feel cold now.   
  
Of course Fíli wouldn’t do anything crazy like jumping into the bed with him, but that he even felt the need to tell Bilbo must mean that he knew that was what Bilbo wanted him to do. Maybe he’d let something slip the night before, or maybe it all had just finally added up. “I’m sorry,” Bilbo added, looking down at the wiggly green and yellow pattern on the blanket.   
  
When the foot of the bed dipped he looked up in surprise.  
  
“No, I’m sorry,” Fíli said as he sat down, and Bilbo’s eyes widened. “I’ve clearly done something to make you uncomfortable, or made you feel that you can’t trust me.” When white teeth gently bit into a plumb bottom lip Bilbo had to swallow and look away. “It was the plates wasn’t it? I know it was dumb. I just- I wanted you to pay attention to me. Or have I been too forward? I thought- but perhaps I was mistaken.”  
  
Bilbo considered the possibility that Fíli was not actually speaking Common. Because what he was hearing made no sense.  
  
“Do you like me at all?” Fíli asked, suddenly looking so young and vulnerable that Bilbo felt guilty in a whole new way.   
  
“Of course I like you, Fíli,” Bilbo said, wanting to reach out, but that would be a poor idea indeed, what with the both of them only being half-dressed and being alone in a room with a bed… exactly what he’d tried to avoid last night. Only… he had somehow hurt Fíli by avoiding to be alone with him. He… yes, he must be looking to make a new friend. And now… Did he think that Bilbo preferred Bofur’s companionship over his?  
  
But to allow a potential friendship to affect him so?  
  
There was suddenly a queasy feeling in Bilbo’s stomach.   
  
He knew that Fíli and Kíli were younger than the rest of the Dwarfs, together with Ori, but how young were they exactly? Had he been entertaining lewd thoughts about someone barely out of childhood? Fíli did not look like a child, but that was not proof that he wasn’t.   
  
“Fíli,” Bilbo said carefully, trying not to flinch when sky-blue eyes looked his way. “How old are you?”  
  
“You aren’t going to be able to tell me I’m too young,” Fíli scoffed. “I’m almost eighty.”  
  
Bilbo tried to digest that. “And… that’s above the age of maturity for your kind?”  
  
“Perhaps not if you’re Kíli,” Fíli muttered. “But seriously though, yes, it is. Did you think Thorin would allow us to come on this quest if we were children still?”  
  
“I- no, I just wanted-“  
  
“Bilbo you don’t need to make up an excuse,” Fíli said, shoulders slumping a little. “I’ve made you uncomfortable. For that I’m sorry. I just- would you please tell me if the reason is because you do not return my feelings or because I’ve been too forward? Because if it is the latter I’m perfectly able to-“  
  
“Feelings?” Bilbo echoed, and Fíli winced and stood up.  
  
“I see. Well, I will leave you alone then. My apologies, Master-“  
  
“No, no, wait a moment,” Bilbo said, pushing the blankets aside and standing up. “What on Arda are you on about? You cannot- _feelings_? What sort of feelings? Is it friendship that you are talking about?”  
  
“Only if you often spend a day on ponyback wondering what it would be like to kiss your friends,” Fíli said, the left corner of his mouth quirking up in a sad smile. “I’ll take my leave now, before I manage to make you more uncomfortable still. Please, don’t forget to eat breakfast. Come down when you're done.” He gestured to the tray and Bilbo tracked the movement, but snapped his eyes back to Fíli’s face, still doing his best to understand just what was going on.  
  
“You can’t really want to kiss me,” Bilbo said. “It’s- oh dear, you don’t think I’m a lass do you? Hobbits can’t grow a beard you see, but- you just called me Master, so I assume-“  
  
“I know that you’re not a lass,” Fíli snorted. “Not that I expect it to make any difference if you were, I have no preference either way. And-“ the blond’s smile changed, turning a little sad around the edges again. “I do want to kiss you. Very much so. But you have no reason to worry. I would never try and push my affection on someone who is not interested.”  
  
Feelings. Affection. Kissing. Interested. Not. Interested. Not interested.   
  
Fíli wanted to kiss him, because he had feelings for him, of the affectionate sort, and he believed that Bilbo did not return his interest.   
  
Perhaps this was a dream. Or a test.   
  
If it was the latter then it was best to reveal all of his cards while he was still in Bree. If they would try it again, and he wouldn’t be strong enough to resist… it was much better to be left in Bree than in the middle of nowhere.  
  
And if it was a dream… well, that would explain quite a bit.  
  
“I’d like it if you kissed me,” Bilbo said, bracing himself for whatever the result of his confession would be. The sinking feeling in his stomach intensified when Fíli’s eyes widened in surprise.  
  
“Bilbo, I told you. If you’re not interested- you don’t have to- I’m not trying to pressure you into anything. I would _never_ -“  
  
“But I want to,” Bilbo protested, daring to take a small step forward, only as he did he remembered that he wasn’t wearing any trousers. And that he’d also managed to squirm out of his shirt after being led to the bed by Bofur. Which meant that all he was wearing was his underthings and a thin sleeveless undershirt.

And suddenly a blush. But that didn’t exactly help cover anything up.  
  
Bilbo looked down at his toes and they wriggled nervously and were of no help at all, when he looked back up again it was to see Fíli snapping his head up as well, and… there was a small flush on his cheeks too?  
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to- you’re beautiful, that’s all,” Fíli said, shrugging one shoulder and glancing down at the floor before meeting Bilbo’s eyes again. “Not an excuse, I’ll stop staring. My apologies.”

It was not possible for this morning to get any stranger. Only that was not true was it...  
  
“I’m- I’m going to kiss you now,” Bilbo told Fíli as he took another couple of tentative steps forward.   
  
Since the room was Hobbit-sized that was all it took, and Bilbo licked his lips and stretched the small distance required for him to press his mouth against Fíli’s.  
  
He didn’t know what he’d expected really, but it wasn’t a breathy little moan, nor for Fíli’s lips to go soft and pliant beneath his own. He definitely hadn’t expected Fíli to return the kiss.   
  
So, a dream it was then.  
  
Probably due to Men not knowing how to make proper ale, Bilbo thought distantly as he allowed himself to trail his hands up Fíli’s arms, brushing through those soft, ticklish, golden hairs on his arms, and when he arrived at Fíli’s shoulders it was as if the whole of Fíli went soft and pliant, except for how he curled his arms around Bilbo’s waist, tugging him in closer so that they were pressed together from chest to thigh.  
  
Fíli was amongst the shortest in Thorin’s company, and he and Bilbo was close to being of an height. But there was still a marked difference in their builds, and as he’d noted before, there was no way Bilbo could pretend to himself that it was a lass he was holding.   
  
No, he was very much aware that it was Fíli, and the thought excited him something fierce. Without moving his arms from around Fíli’s neck Bilbo took a small step backwards, and another when he noted that Fíli swayed after him.  
  
He didn’t stop until the back of his knees hit the bed and by that point Fíli had caught on to what he was doing.  
  
“Are you sure?” he asked, blue eyes darker than before, and heavy lidded. His lips were darker too, and the flush still lingered on his cheeks.  
  
“Yes, but I’ve never- only once, with a lass,” Bilbo said, forcing himself not to look down.  
  
Fíli looked a little surprised, but not put off. “Is everyone where you come from either blind or stupid?”  
  
“Um, no?” Bilbo replied, blinking in confusion.  
  
“I’m not so certain,” Fíli murmured, but then he leaned in for another kiss and Bilbo forgot to ask him what he’d meant exactly. 

When he was gently nudged down onto the bed Bilbo thought that Fíli would join him, but instead he paused for a moment, head tilted to the side.   
  
Bilbo had just started to feel uncomfortable when Fíli snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, they’re definitely idiots.”  
  
With that the Dwarf pulled off his shirt and knelt down on the bed next to Bilbo.  
  
“We don’t have a lot of time,” he said, sliding his hand up Bilbo’s still cloth-covered stomach, tracing circles with a blunt finger ‘round the nub of a nipple, clearly visible through the thin fabric. The touch tickled and sparked, and made Bilbo squirm and arch up into the touch.  
  
“As much as I’d like to spend hours with you and this bed, that’s not going to be an option. And you deserve so much better than something rushed.”  
  
“I want this,” Bilbo promised reaching up and sliding his fingers into Fíli's hair, snagging a braid and tugging lightly to prompt him to come closer. “You, I want you.”

“You have me,” Fíli replied, cupping Bilbo’s face before leaning down and kissing him again.  
  
Bilbo had indeed had dreams like this before, but nothing… nothing this real. Nor this good.  
  
“Is this a dream?” Bilbo murmured between one kiss and the next, and the question startled a laugh out of Fíli.  
  
“I’ll take that as a compliment I think, and no, it’s not a dream. But if it were, then it would be the best dream I’d ever had.”  
  
“Yes,” Bilbo agreed. “Quite so.”  
  
“What would you like?” Fíli asked, hand sneaking down Bilbo’s chest, then squirming inside his shirt to rest at the space just below his belly button. “I could take you in my mouth?”  
  
Bilbo’s eyes widened. He almost blurted out that there’d be no babes made that way, but that was extremely silly of him. It wasn’t like they could- and that was- he knew that was wrong.  
  
Only how could it be wrong when every single bit of skin and hair on his body cried out for Fíli to touch him?  
  
Fíli, who was still waiting patiently for a response.

“I- another time?” Bilbo said, hoping that he wasn’t about to cause offence. “I’d very much like it if you- if I- I’d like to touch you? And for you to touch me. If you’d like that.”  
  
The smile spreading on Fíli’s face made Bilbo feel like a moth exposed to the light of the sun.   
  
“I’d very much like that,” he said. “And I like the idea of another time just as much.”  
  
-  
  
Bilbo wasn’t entirely clear on what happened to their clothes. Suddenly he noticed that they were gone, and he had a vague memory of tugging at Fíli’s trousers, but it was almost impossible to think of anything except the Dwarf beneath him, and the way Fíli touched him; reverent and somehow _happy_. Like Bilbo was a gift that he’d not been expecting.  
  
Embarrassingly enough, Bilbo spurted a few moments after Fíli touched his cock, but the blond did not seem to mind, instead just keeping his eyes locked with Bilbo’s as he brought his hand up to lick his fingers clean.  
  
At the sight Bilbo’s cock managed an additional spurt, a mere dribble really, but it brought a look a pure glee to Fíli’s face and he showered Bilbo with kisses before nudging him down to lie on his back,   
  
“If you just watch this will be a quick thing indeed,” Fíli huffed as he started stroking himself, eyes flitting between Bilbo’s face and up and down the rest of his body. “And if you feel like helping… let’s just say I’m usually not this quick.”  
  
“I was quicker though,” Bilbo pointed out, unable to look away from Fíli’s hand fisting his cock, and the way the pink head poked out on every slide of his hand, the way it glistened. He licked his lips.  
  
“For your second time you lasted a lot longer than I did,” Fíli said. “And you looked, you still look-“  
  
Bilbo turned his attention back to Fíli’s face just to see it twist, it almost looked like he was in pain, but the rapid motions of his hand told another story.   
  
He’d cupped his other hand in front of himself, making Bilbo unable to see, and with a frown Bilbo tugged at it, with the result of making Fíli’s final spurt of seed land on Bilbo’s stomach.  
  
Fíli cursed softly, his eyes glazed. “That’s, don’t worry, I’ll clean you up.”  
  
Not with a cloth, as Bilbo soon learnt as Fíli lapped at him with slow, unhurried strokes of his tongue, humming happily as he did so.  
  
“By Mahal’s axe,” Fíli sighed, rubbing his cheek against Bilbo’s stomach after he was done. “I wish we had more time. But if you want there’ll be other mornings, and other nights. I’ll show you so many ways we can make each other feel good. And we’ll find even more together.”

Bilbo worked his fingers through the thick waves of Fíli’s hair, smiling when it caused the blond to stretch like a happy and sleepy cat.   
  
“I’d like that,” Bilbo said, his smile widening when Fíli looked up at him and grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm, so well, this turned complicated for that simple and sweet prompt.
> 
> Also, normally I’d not write a sex scene that quickly after the ‘omg it’s all right and requited’ revelations, not with someone carrying a background like Bilbo's with them, but let’s pretend this made sense, because when I tried to speed up the timeline a little and have them wait until Beorn’s house or something like that, it wouldn’t co-operate. 
> 
> The jump felt so forced and horrible :/ SOooooo, I hope this doesn’t feel forced to you as it reads much better for me.
> 
> Anyway. PSA: it’s important not to rush into any life changing decisions *nods* No matter how pretty certain Dwarfs are.  
> Of course it's much more important not to be an arsehole and try to tell other people how to live their lives, but if you're here reading my smut I hope I can trust you not to do that? ;)


	8. Out of Character - Nori/Dwalin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undercover agents

Nori giggled and leaned into Dwalin’s side.  
  
“We’re being watched,” he whispered as he flicked his tongue against the lobe of Dwalin’s ear. “Followed. Two of them. Carrying.”  
  
Dwalin grunted and pretended to miss a step, making them both wobble. Looking like he’d had too much to drink at the club they’d just left.  
  
Still giggling Nori clutched at Dwalin’s arm. “Carefully there, lover.”  
  
“I don’t give a fuck about careful,” Dwalin growled, leaning down and claiming Nori’s mouth, pushing him up against the nearby brick wall.   
  
It was all Nori could do not to start laughing for real. Not because of the kiss, but because it was such a strange thing to hear coming out Dwalin’s mouth. He was a mother hen, albeit one who favoured with knuckledusters. Perhaps it was a family thing, Balin was the same way, only with more blatant clucking and less knuckledusters.  
  
Espionage and mother henning; the family business.   
  
“They’re coming closer,” Nori whispered as Dwalin sucked kisses into his neck. “No guns out. They’re not sure.” Tilting his head back further he made a small breathy moan. “Yes, yes, honey. No, no, wait-“  
  
“You don’t say _no_ to me,” Dwalin said darkly, fisting his hand in Nori’s hair and giving him a small shake.  
  
“But I just want to blow you, baby,” Nori said, looking up at Dwalin and pouting. “Want your big fat cock in my mouth. You know I like it when we do it in public.”  
  
“You like it whe’ever we do it,” Dwalin snorted, following it up with a burp.  
  
Giggling again Nori patted him on the belly. “Good baby, burping after his bottle.”  
  
“Give _you_ somethin’ to suck on then.”  
  
Nori didn’t resist when Dwalin pushed at his shoulders, sinking willingly to his knees. When he reached up to thumb open the button on Dwalin’s denims he licked his lips.  
  
“Going to make me dirty, me kneeling like this.”  
  
“Already dirty,” Dwalin grunted.   
  
Dwalin was already more than half-hard, which could be just the adrenaline, but Nori was going to take at least some of the credit. Gods knew that his own hard-on was mostly due to Dwalin and not the two morons standing a bit further up the street, probably trying their best to be invisible as they likewise tried to suss out if they’d found the people they were looking for.   
  
If only they could just shoot them and be done with it, but sadly silencers were not as effective in reality as they were on the telly. And without guns… well, he and Dwalin were a good team, but there were a lot of windows all around them. Chances were that they’d take long enough for someone to hear the noise and look out.  
  
Nori hid a snicker by leaning and giving the head of Dwalin’s cock a few teasing kitten licks.   
  
If anyone looked out now they’d maybe still call the cops, but the police was so much less likely to bother with two guys fucking each other than they were with people getting killed. Make love and not war and whatnot.  
  
“Get on with it,” Dwalin ordered.   
  
He was good. You’d never know that what he really wanted was to get down on his knees as well and kiss and kiss until they were both silly with it.   
  
Nori had been pleasantly surprised to learn that his new partner had not only been hot as hell, competent as anyone he’d ever worked with, but also a huge romantic sweetheart. He’d fuck you up against the wall, sure, but then he’d carry you to bed and braid your hair and tell you all about how beautiful you were.  
  
Somewhere along the line Nori had stopped thinking about Dwalin as his new partner and thinking of him as his last. He could no longer imagine doing this type of thing with anyone but Dwalin. Not just the fucking, or being undercover; though it had to be said that no one had been able to complement him as well in both those areas as Dwalin did, no, but the entire spying gig would be over and done with for him if Dwalin wasn’t part of it.

It wouldn’t be any fun.  
  
Humming happily as he swallowed Dwalin down, Nori fumbled with his own clothes. As he reached inside his shirt to pinch his nipples he made sure that all of his knives were where they should be.  
  
“Close?” he asked, as he let Dwalin’s cock slide out of his mouth with a lewd popping sound. What he really mean to ask was if the two watcher had come any closer, and judging by the barely noticeable flick of Dwalin’s eyes he’d understood.  
  
“Closer,” Dwalin rumbled before tugging on Nori’s hair again.

Huh. So either they still weren’t convinced, or they were a little too convinced and perverts at that.  
  
Either way, it wasn’t like it was a hard-hah!-ship to suck Dwalin’s cock, so Nori went back to it, trusting that Dwalin would have his back.

He’d just started to notice some of the signs that Dwalin was close to coming when Dwalin cupped his face, brushing his thumb over Nori’s cheek.  
  
“Gone now, you can stop.”  
  
Pulling off Nori licked his lips and glanced behind. Indeed. No one there.  
  
“You telling me you want to walk _home_ with this?” Nori asked, sliding his fist up and down the rock hard erection. “Going to hurt.”  
  
“I’ve been shot you know,” Dwalin said drily. “I’ll manage.”  
  
Nori considered it. “Hate leaving a job half-done,” he said, grinning up at his lover. “And who knows, they might decide to check on us later. Better if you look as if your spine has melted then, compared to wincing with each step.”  
  
“And you?” Dwalin asked, looking down at the straining crotch of Nori’s trousers.  
  
“Multitasking,” Nori said, unzipping with his left hand even as he leaned forward and took Dwalin into his mouth again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prooooobably wouldn't have thought about this idea if I still wasn't all aaaaah! about Kingsman. *nods*  
> Secret agents... yesssss please.


	9. Lovers -  Nori/Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo knew Nori before the quest.

Everyone in Hobbiton knew that Bilbo Baggins had a Dwarf.   
  
Some people thought it rather strange, some people thought it rather sweet, some people did not really care at all and some people had some other opinion about it. Such was the life in a village.  
  
Most everyone tended to talk about Mister Baggins’ Dwarf as if he was a stray cat that came and went a little as he pleased, and it was in fact rather fitting.  
  
While Nori would turn down a saucer of cream (unless there were also strawberries) he did enjoy curling up in front of the fireplace, he very much enjoyed being petted by the right person, and he was not one you wanted to annoy too much unless you wanted to see some claws.  
  
And just like a stray cat, Bilbo was not entirely sure how he’d come to acquire a Nori to begin with.   
  
He’d fed him, the first time they met, and perhaps that had been enough.   
  
However Bilbo also wanted to think that Nori kept coming around for other reasons too, reasons not just related to the kitchen table. Or to his bed.   
  
No Bilbo rather hoped Nori would keep coming around even without that. But he still enjoyed feeding him, and he also enjoyed-

  
  
“Nori,” Bilbo moaned as an entirely too clever tongue speared into him. “I’m not- I’m- not again.”  
  
“Wanna bet?” Nori murmured, the hot puff of his breath making Bilbo shiver, and when Nori chuckled blew much cooler air at him, all but wail. “You’re hard again. I say we make it a new record. If you win you win, if you lose you win. Good deal.”  
  
Bilbo’s laugh was breathless and silent, and it dissolved into a new moan when Nori oh so lightly wrapped his fingers around Bilbo’s cock, the touch barely even there but it still made Bilbo’s arms and knees tremble bad enough that he could almost not remain braced on all fours on the bed.  
  
“Nori…”  
  
“Yes?” Nori asked, flicking his tongue against the rim of Bilbo’s hole. And then doing it again when it made Bilbo shudder and groan.  
  
“Ho-horrible,” Bilbo panted, trying to spread his legs wider. “Don’t stop.”  
  
  
When the record was indeed broken they collapsed in a warm and sticky pile, Bilbo squished up against Nori’s left side.  
  
“I need to leave soon,” Nori said. “But not yet just yet.”  
  
“Can’t you stay longer?” Bilbo mumbled sleepily against Nori’s arm, gently rubbing his nose against it. “You’ve only been here a few weeks this time.”  
  
Nori sighed and pulled Bilbo a little closer, burying his hair in sweat-damp honey-coloured curls and breathing in deeply.  
  
“Big things coming. Maybe. Ori has gotten it into his head that he’s going on a quest. And Dori’s gotten it into _his_ head that he needs to come with. Guess were that leaves me?”  
  
“Going somewhere far away from here.” Bilbo sighed as well, suddenly feeling entirely too awake. “Because I’m assume it’s not a quest to find the perfect pumpkins.”  
  
“No,” Nori said. “Sadly not.”  
  
He didn’t say anything else, and Bilbo didn’t ask.  
  
“Would you tell me about the sea again?” he said instead, tilting his head to look up at Nori.  
  
“’Course,” Nori said, brushing his lips over Bilbo’s forehead. “It’s big, and blue. Done.”  
  
Bilbo poked him in the chest, at a particularly ticklish spot that he was a little too familiar with for Nori’s tastes. “Properly.”  
  
Nori snorted and squirmed. “Mercy. All right. The sea. It’s surprisingly noisy. You’ll hear it before you see it, a sound that’s a little like thunder a bit like rain, and a little like someone dragging an empty sack back and forth across a small room. But that’s just the waves. Sometimes they get taller than even a Man, sometimes they’re hardly more than tiny ripples. But-“  
  
Putting his head on Nori’s chest, Bilbo listened to him talk and listened to his heartbeat at the same time, and the combination of sounds lulled him to sleep quicker than he’d thought was possible.  
  
When he woke up Nori was gone, but left in the bed was a small note that made Bilbo feel cold inside.  
  
_I love you_

Why? _Why_ would Nori tell him now, unless… unless he didn’t think he might not come back from this quest.  
  
Bilbo more or less fell out of the bed in his urgency to see if Nori’s cloak hung on its hook by the door.  
  
It was gone.  
  
-  
  
Unbeknownst to our dear Hobbit there was no need for his worry that he might never see his stray Dwarf ever again.  
  
But the next time a Dwarf came to Bilbo’s door his name was Dwalin.


	10. Rain - Fíli/Kíli/Bofur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm swimming in the rain, swimming in the rain...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sibling incest, duh.

They were swimming in the lake when it started to rain.  
  
Kíli laughed and threaded water as he looked up at the sky filled with purple-dark clouds. “Seems like someone really wants us to get wet. Water from below and above.”  
  
“Seems like a bit of a waste since you dunked your head under as soon as it was deep enough,” Fíli said and splashed some water his way.  
  
“My head is really deep, yes,” Kíli nodded.  
  
“I meant the water.”  
  
“Sure you did.”  
  
"Totally did," Kíli said, curling his hand around Fíli's shoulder, tugging him in for a kiss that perhaps got a little too intense as they'd only realised that they'd forgotten to thread water when they suddenly found themselves under water.  
  
Coughing and spluttering, and also snickering, they surfaced.  
  
They both flinched when the crash of thunder rolled in over the valley, followed moments later by a flash of lightning.  
  
“Not supposed to swim when there’s thunder,” Kíli sighed, sounding like someone had just taken all his toys away from him.  
  
“I think-“  
  
That’s when the skies opened. In a moment the rain went from a light sprinkle to shower turned up to max.

“Race you!” Fíli shouted, almost not hearing himself over the roar of the rain beating down on them and the lake.  
  
The thunder rumbled over them again just as they splashed themselves up on the small sandy area they’d agreed were really too tiny to be called a beach as two beach towels more or less managed to cover it. They’d not brought any this time, just as they’d not bothered to put on any trunks, and it wasn’t exactly a big loss as the towels would just have been as soaking wet as they were.  
  
Fíli blinked and blinked and blinked to try and keep up with the water trickling down onto his face as he squinted up at the clouds.

“You glaring at them won’t make them stop,” Kíli said and Fíli snorted.  
  
“Never know, it could work.”  
  
As they got up to the cabin they noticed that Bofur wasn’t actually inside it anymore.   
  
The cabin was just one large room and a bathroom, so they didn't even need to drip water everywhere to be sure.   
  
When they’d gone down to the lake Bofur had been curled up on the couch, reading some murder mystery story that he’d claimed was at a too critical point for him to leave. Kíli had suggested he’d bring the book to the lake, making Bofur clutch it protectively to his chest as he eyed Kíli’s innocent look with – likely - warranted scepticism.   
  
The book was now lying on the couch, but there was a distinct lack of Bofur holding it.  
  
After checking the bathroom Kíli shrugged. “Kidnapped by squirrels?”  
  
“In this weather?” Fíli shook his head, wincing as that meant he'd just accidentally sprayed his surroundings with tiny droplets of water. “Let’s go and look for him. It’s not like we can get any wetter.”  
  
They found him lying on the plot of grass behind the cabin, dressed only in his Hawaii shorts, arms and legs spread as if he was about to make a very wet, very snowless snow angel, and Fíli’s heart skipped a beat before he noticed that Bofur was both breathing and smiling.  
  
“You’ll drown if it rains any harder,” Kíli informed him as he knelt down and straddled Bofur’s waist, skimming his hands over Bofur’s chest. “And you won’t come swimming with us both you’ll stretch out on a soggy lawn and let the clouds soak you?”  
  
“Been ages since I was out in a downpour like this,” Bofur murmured, not opening his eyes. “’s nice. Been out of the country way too long."

“It’s wet,” Kíli said, water dripping off him to land on Bofur. "But yes, please stay here."  
  
“Swimming's also wet, and I'll try my best.”  
  
“Aren’t you cold?” Fíli asked, and Bofur chuckled.  
  
“Want to help me keep warm?”  
  
“We’re all going to come down with the sniffles,” Fíli warned as he knelt down on the wet grass as well, stroking his hand down Kíli’s arm while leaning in to press his lips against Bofur’s. “Fuck, you _are_ cold.”  
  
“Fucking would indeed be a solution to that,” Bofur agreed, bringing his hand up to shield his eyes as he grinned up at the both of them. “Especially if I get to be in the middle.”  
  
“If you think we’re bringing lube when we’re going swimming-“ Kíli shook his head. “You’d _sometimes_ be right. But without pockets-“  
  
“Want to know what I’ve got in my pocket?” Bofur grinned.  
  
-  
  
“I’m not sure this was a good idea,” Fíli said, his knees slipping on the wet grass for the umpteenth time.   
  
Neither Bofur nor Kíli made much of a reply as they were a bit busy sucking each other off, but Kíli moaned and waved his hand around until he managed to pat Fíli’s leg.  
  
Fíli snorted and tightened his hands on Bofur’s hips, as best as he could anyway as the rain was a little too helpful at getting rid of friction.   
  
It was rather tricky, trying to find the balance between rocking his hips enough to actually fuck Bofur, without actually moving too much and end up crashing down on top of him.   
  
“I mean, it’s fine for the two of you, you just need to be still, and it’s not even raining on you that much, at least not on Kíli. Meanwhile I’m going to slip and fall on Bofur, who’ll fall on Kíli, and then he’ll be flat.”  
  
Rain felt _really_ cold against your cock when you were fucking someone, but every time Fíli pulled away meant that he’d get to sink back into Bofur’s snug, slick heat; and whoever had invented lube that didn’t get washed away by a little water was a brilliant person.  
  
“I’m just saying that if Kíli’s nose gets broken it’s going to be really awkward to explain how at the ER.”


	11. Washing - Bilbo/Thranduil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is a Peeping Tom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to add that I'm not in favour of spying on people, not even hot ones, but we're only humans. And Hobbits (and Dwarfs, and Elves, and-)

He didn’t mean to.  
  
The Elven King’s halls were vast and easy to get lost in. It’d taken a long time just to find most of the Dwarfs, and some he’d still not found, Thorin being one of them.  
  
Somewhere between one identical hallway and the next he must have gotten confused because Bilbo suddenly found himself out of the dungeons, creeping along a corridor much nicer than the ones he'd just travelled through. It was better lit, had rugs, a few tasteful statues, and it even smelled better. Like flowers.

And was that… yes, that was the sound of water.  
  
Bilbo perked up. So he likely wouldn’t find any of his missing Dwarfs as he'd appeared to have left the dungeons, but perhaps there'd be a way out? He’d heard water before, and he believed that there must be a river running somewhere beneath it all. As he was still on the same level as before; there'd not been any stairs, perhaps he'd find something useful.  
  
Only what he found as he snuck into the open door at the end of the hallway was not in any way a way out.

“You may leave,” a commanding voice ordered and Bilbo’s eyes widened with fright before he realised that he was not the one being spoken to.

Two Elves walked past him, not even glancing at where Bilbo stood pressed up against the wall; hidden by his ring, and then they closed the door behind them.   
  
Leaving Bilbo alone in a large room with non-other than the Elven King himself.  
  
The water Bilbo had heard was not from a river. Instead it was from a small waterfall, flowing down into a large sunken pool.   
  
Thranduil was kneeling just inside the pool, water reaching as far as his upper thighs, and despite how the water _had_ to be cold you’d not know it from looking at him.  
  
Bilbo felt a wave of heat creep down his face as he tore his eyes away from the Elven King’s soft cock where it hung between his legs. That wasn’t what he’d meant at all, but um, all right, it still applied.

For a few moments Bilbo stared up at the ceiling, which was – like all the other ceilings he’d seen so far in his life – rather unremarkable and fairly boring.

A small splash made him look at Thranduil again, and this time when Bilbo’s eyes widened it wasn’t out of fright.  
  
Thranduil cupped his hands in the water, bringing them up to pour the water down his chest, leaving small drops glistening on his pale skin whilst the water trickled down in pale streams.  
  
Bilbo- he should leave. He had no right to watch this, but it still took him a few long, long moments before he could turn his head away to face- oh no, the very _closed_ door.

If he opened it Thranduil would see- or rather, _not_ see him. But he’d know that there was something strange going on as doors usually would not open on their own.

Not aware of the inner turmoil of the Hobbit in the room, or that there was even a Hobbit in the room in the first place, Thranduil reached for the bar of soap resting on the edge of the pool.

Working up a frothy lather with his hands he then put the soap away and-  
  
Bilbo tried really, really hard to stare up at the ceiling again, he truly did, but his eyes kept slinking back down to watch as Thranduil washed himself with slow, graceful motions. And when the Elven King’s fingers found his nipples, prompting a low, deep moan… that’s when Bilbo gave up entirely.  
  
Elves had interesting ways of getting clean, that was for sure, and Bilbo made sure to study their ways _closely_ as Thranduil kept pinching his left nipple as his other hand travelled down his stomach; nails scratching gently at the skin below his navel, before he wrapped it around his still mostly soft cock.

After a brief pause to again reach for the soap and produce more slippery lather, Thranduil sighed and leaned back a little, moving his knees a little further apart as not to lose his balance as he started working his hand up and down his length; other hand alternating between the small hard buds of his nipples.

Bilbo swallowed down an offer to lend a hand or two. That- would not be a good idea. But it was _really_ difficult to convince himself of that. Especially when Thranduil’s cock hardened and lengthened in his grasp, making Bilbo want to speak up and offer his mouth as well.   
  
How much would he be able to take? Or would it be too big for him to get even the head inside his mouth? Perhaps all he would be able to do is to offer to help clean it, carefully rinsing away all the soap before licking his way up from the base and lapping at the head and the beads of fluid that would gather there. He'd use his hands on the rest of it, but slowly, so it'd take a good long time before the Elven King finished.  
  
He’d like to use his mouth on Thranduil’s chest too. He seemed to be very sensitive and Bilbo wanted to see if he'd lose his composure if hee licked and sucked and oh so gently bit at those perky pink nubs.   
  
He could clean him up after he’d come too. Licking away all traces of seed as it would be a terrible waste to let the water wash them away.   
  
Would Elves taste the same as Hobbits? 

Tongue flicking out to lick over his bottom lip Bilbo fisted his hands at his side. He had to be quiet. And also, to touch himself whilst spying on someone entirely unaware of his presence that would be-  
  
No, best wait until the servants came back and he could sneak away to find a quiet corner somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol, this is probs one of the pairings that wouldn't have gotten written if it hadn't been suggested. My brain is otherwise quite firmly stuck on Thranduil/Wife or Thranduil/Dáin.


	12. Silk - Ori/Thorin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are a most wicked little creature,” Thorin groaned, the tendons in his wrist and forearm jerking as Ori ran the tips of his fingers over the calloused skin in Thorin’s palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild bondage and an Ori who really likes teasing.

Ori knew that Thorin liked seeing him in fine clothes and glittering jewels, just as he knew that Thorin liked seeing him wearing only a shirt borrowed from his closer and with ink stains all over his fingers.

Ori was also very appreciative on the occasions when Thorin dressed up in something more elaborate, but his favourite thing… that was to have Thorin naked on their bed, delicate ribbons of silk wrapped around his wrists and ankles, keeping him tied to the bed frame.  
  
That’s not to say that Thorin couldn’t get loose if he wanted, no actually that was the whole point of it.  
  
If he didn’t stay still for Ori; if Thorin thrashed or squirmed or even twitched too much, then the pretty bows of the ribbons would come undone and Ori would need to stop touching for as long as it took him to very slowly and meticulously retie it. That was the rule.   
  
And when they played this game Thorin was of course not allowed to touch him either, so he’d need to lie there, more often than not panting harshly, as Ori knelt beside him, humming softly beneath his breath as he wound the ribbon around Thorin’s wrist once more.  
  
Ori was almost as strong as Dori and could probably manage to actually hold Thorin down if he wanted to, at least for a while as Thorin had much more experience with hand to hand combat, but the knowledge that Thorin voluntarily surrendered himself like this made Ori's heart race just to think of it.  
  
“You are a most wicked little creature,” Thorin groaned, the tendons in his wrist and forearm jerking as Ori ran the tips of his fingers over the calloused skin in Thorin’s palm.  
  
“And you’d not have me any other way,” Ori smiled.  
  
Thorin snorted. “Ah, but that’s where you are mistaken. I’d have you any way I was allowed to have you.”  
  
“Is that a hint that you’d like to stop?” Ori asked, his eyes widening with feigned innocence. “I’d not like to lure you into situations you’re not comfortable with.”  
  
“If you stop now I’ll ban you from the library,” Thorin rumbled, and Ori took his revenge by fastening the ribbon even slower, adjusting the bow until it looked just _so_.  
  
Eventually though it was in place again and Ori moved down Thorin’s body, straddling him and wrapping his fingers around the hard, flushed cock he’d needed to leave when the ribbon around Thorin’s left wrist came loose.  
  
He’d been riding Thorin, his hands braced on Thorin’s chest, and the almost pained groan Thorin had made when Ori raised himself up enough that Thorin’s cock slipped out of him had made something hot unfurl in Ori’s stomach.  
  
The heat had only grown more intense when Thorin hadn’t even protested beyond that groan, instead trying to lie as still as he could as Ori collected the ribbon and started to tie him back up with it.  
  
As began to sink back down on Thorin’s cock, letting inch by slick inch nudge up inside of him, it earned him another groan, and Ori paused halfway to let both Thorin and himself get used to the feel of it once more.  
  
Thorin was not the biggest lover he’d had, not in length, but his cock was the _thickest_ , almost as thick as Ori’s wrist. It had scared him a little at first, but only as much as it had also excited him.  
  
He’d quickly gotten addicted to the close to aching fullness and now it was impossible to imagine being satisfied by anything less. When Thorin was too busy with his royal duties Ori always ended up with four of his own fingers inside himself, trying to make it feel as good, but it never quite worked.  
  
Leaning backwards and rocking his hips just slightly made Thorin’s cock rub against that special spot inside of Ori, and he moaned and clench down, doing it again and again and again until Thorin was trembling beneath him and until his own legs started to feel unsteady.  
  
“Ori,” Thorin rasped, arms tense from the effort of not reaching out as Ori sank the rest of the way down on his cock in a languid slide.  
  
“You feel so good,” Ori murmured, petting Thorin’s chest, tugging lightly at the coarse hair covering it. “Want to do this forever.”  
  
“I am not opposed,” Thorin managed. “However, I think my body has other ideas. I- I am close.”  
  
“What if I wrapped a ribbon around your cock,” Ori suggested as he raised himself up a little before dropping back down again. “And you weren’t allowed to finish until I’d unwrapped you?”  
  
When Thorin’s hips bucked up Ori was prepared for it and rode the movement, clenching down as much as he could when he settled in Thorin’s lap again.  
  
Looking behind himself revealed that-  
  
“Oh look, a ribbon has gotten untied again,” Ori said, biting his lip to stop himself from smiling when Thorin groaned.


	13. New Discoveries - Bilbo/Balin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has a beard kink, but only for one beard in particular.

It's no surprise that Bilbo hadn’t known this about himself before. How could he have? No one in the Shire had beards, much less a beard like Balin’s.

  
Already when his brother, Dwalin, had been standing outside his door Bilbo had felt a strange stirring in his gut, but when Balin showed up… There was no comparing.  
  


Of course he didn’t realise at once just what was happening. He just… he liked looking at Balin. Liked talking to him too for that matter, at least when he wasn’t busy pillaging his pantry.

  
But the first time they kissed… when Bilbo felt the strange smooth-rough of Balin’s beard against his chin and jaw, it was like standing outside just before a thunderstorm split the sky open. Every inch of him tingled. It tingled from a long time afterwards too, even though Balin's beard was much too soft to leave any actual markings on his skin.  
  
  
Since that kiss Bilbo has gotten up close and personal with Balin’s beards on many occasions, but there are three particular ways of doing that which are his favourites.   
  
  
The first one is to fist his hands in Balin’s beard as he takes Bilbo’s cock into his talented mouth. Not to tug or pull on that lovely, lovely collection of hair that Bilbo loves each and every one of, no, just to touch and stroke and caress, and… if Bilbo is really lucky, Balin will pull back when Bilbo’s close to spending and allow him to spurt his seed all over that luscious mane, allowing him to mark Balin's beard and face with white gleaming strands.  
  
  
And if Bilbo’s very lucky indeed that also mean he gets to help Balin wash it afterwards, and usually he _is_ that lucky. (The seed that gets on Balin's face Bilbo is always happy to clean up with his tongue.)  
  
  
The second thing, which is perhaps Bilbo’s _favourite_ favourite, that’s when he’s on his hands and knees on his and Balin’s bed, arse tilted up and facing Balin who is… well, it’s a little embarrassing to tell of it, but Balin is face first into said arse.  
  
  
Big hands gently but firmly keeping Bilbo open for him as Balin’s tongue would be licking inside; gently, or thrusting in and out, but either way his beard would always be brushing against Bilbo’s oh so sensitive skin.   
  
  
Not that there’s anything bad at all to say about the third favourite, which is Balin taking him from the behind, his body moulded against Bilbo’s, which means that not only is Balin’s cock so good and nice and hard inside of him, but his beard is also a tickle-tingle against his neck and shoulders and every roll of Balin’s hips rocks his cock inside of Bilbo as well as making his beard brush against his skin.  
  
  
Bilbo would love Balin even without his beard, but he is oh so very pleased that he's gotten the opportunity to love him with it.


	14. Snow - Bofur/Thorin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, warning. This didn’t want to be smutty, fought me every step of the way

“Sure, Thorin can be an arsehole but he’s _my_ arsehole. Erm wait,” Bofur scratched his head. “That sounded better in my head.”  
  
Nori snorted. “Sure it did.”  
  
“I’m going to take the arsehole part back,” Bofur decided. “Because he’s not really an arsehole anyway.”  
  
“I’d say that he can certainly act like one, but nah,” Nori shook his head. “He’d need to talk more _shit_ for that.”  
  
“Why am I even friends with you,” Bofur sighed. “No, why do I _live_ with you?”  
  
“Because I’m delightful company,” Nori sniffed. “Though technically the friends bit is probably because you had a crush on Dori and wanting to bribe me so I’d spill the goods on how to-“  
  
“Thank you, I was twelve at the time, I think I can be forgiven for thinking that your brother’s pretty.”  
  
Nori shrugged. “No one’s saying that he’s not pretty. Just that bribery is wrong. At least if you think _one_ measly chocolate bar is going to be worth selling out my own flesh and blood.”  
  
“I just wanted to know what kind of music he liked.” Bofur put his head on the table. “Why are we talking about this? It’s been ages since I was in love with your brother.”  
  
“I’m happy to hear it,” Thorin said as he walked into the kitchen.  
  
“Oh, look,” Nori grinned. “It’s Bofur’s arsehole.”  
  
“Ignore him, please,” Bofur said, tilting his head up for a kiss when Thorin got close enough. “Hullo, love. Didn’t hear you come in.”  
  
“Hello,” Thorin murmured, his hand warm on Bofur’s neck, a little too warm; the sort of warmth that happened when you first got too cold and your body pulled out all the stops to fix it. Thus Bofur made a mental note to remind Thorin to wear his gloves when going outside. “Do I dare ask about the conversation you were just having?”  
  
“Ask what?” Bofur winked. “No one’s said anything strange. In fact, it’s just you and me here.”  
  
“If that means that you’re going to have sex on the table then I’m happy to be ignored,” Nori nodded.  
  
“No one is having sex on the kitchen table.”  
  
“Well not right _now_.”   
  
Bofur turned to look at his best friend. “If I say that no one has _had_ sex on the kitchen table...?”  
  
Nori tried to look innocent, it was an utter failure.  
  
“Right,” Bofur said. “Thorin, I know I said that I felt it was a little too soon for us to live together. I’ve changed my mind.”  
  
-  
  
“Did you mean it before,” Thorin asked after they’d bundled up for a walk and were strolling through the quiet, snowy streets. “About moving in with me?”  
  
Bofur touched his hand, or rather his brightly coloured knitted mitten touched Thorin’s leather glove, but who cared. Thorin hesitated for half a moment before taking Bofur’s hand in his.   
  
“I think I _do_ mean it, and not just because of Nori," Bofur said. That earned him a squeeze of his hand, but Thorin didn’t otherwise react.  
  
“If it’s still all right with you?” Bofur added after a few more moments of Thorin not saying anything.  
  
“Of course,” Thorin said, sounding as if anything else would have been utter madness.  
  
“You could have changed your mind.”  
  
“I haven’t.”  
  
“Good,” Bofur smiled, moving to walk a little closer to Thorin, enough so that their shoulders brushed every so often.  
  
-  
  
They were almost done with the walk, back outside the apartment building once again, when Bofur couldn’t resist anymore.  
  
“What are you doing?” Thorin asked as Bofur pulled away from him and proceeded to throw himself to the ground.  
  
“A snow angel,” Bofur informed him as he stretched out on the previously untouched patch of snow. “Want to join me?” he offered, not really thinking that Thorin would take him up on it.   
  
When Thorin snorted and knelt down Bofur’s eyes widened in surprise.  
  
“Clearly I should have agreed to move in with you a _lot_ earlier.”  
  
“Just how long have you’ve been wanting to make snow angels with me?” Thorin asked as he lay down on the ground next to Bofur, his dark hair fanning out against the snow.  
  
“Not long enough that I can’t wait a little longer,” Bofur mused before rolling on top of Thorin. “Fancy meeting you here,” he murmured before closing the last remaining distance between them.  
  
Thorin had a better coat than him anyway so it was only fair that he got to be on the bottom, Bofur decided as they kissed for what was probably a little too long considering that it was bloody cold outside, although the snow beneath Thorin's head was probably melting; must get him a hat, hats were awesome, and also considering that all the neighbours were probably watching.  
  
Neighbours and…  
  
“Trying to get summer to _come_ quicker?” Nori asked and Bofur and Thorin looked up and were met by a wide grin. “Because that’s pretty hot.”  
  
“I’m sleeping at your place tonight,” Bofur informed Thorin.

“I feel so abandoned,” Nori sighed.   
  
-

Bofur did a bit more than just sleep at Thorin’s place.  
  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”  
  
“Well, I am trying,” Thorin entirely too steadily as he helped Bofur ride his cock, Thorin’s big hands holding on to his hips as Bofur’s were braced on Thorin’s shoulders.  
  
“That- that stopped being funny a long- oh bloody hell,” Bofur groaned and hid his face against Thorin’s neck as he sank all the way down, his arse against Thorin’s thighs. “Right, I’m staying like this. I’m- Oh- Jesus fucking _Christ_.”   
  
Bofur clutched at Thorin’s shoulders when his lover slid his hands down to grab his arse, proceeding to lift him as if he weighed nothing. His next words were somewhat more incoherent, but Bofur felt no one would be able to blame him.  
  
Thorin had a sixth sense that seemed to be entirely devoted to finding Bofur’s prostate with his cock, and Bofur’s prostate _loved_ him for it.   
  
As Thorin held him up his hips rocked just enough for the head of his cock to keep brushing against the lovely little bundle of nerves, making it very lucky indeed that Thorin _was_ strong enough to hold him up in the first place as the muscles of Bofur’s thighs declared that they were going on strike.  
  
“Guh,” Bofur said, very succinctly as he was bounced up and down on Thorin’s lap, feeling a bit like a ragdoll but at least a _very_ happy one.


	15. Diplomacy - Dáin/Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like my brain is demanding a break from the outright smut, so there's this.

“Hey!”   
  
Bilbo turned around to look at the person who’d just tapped him on the back. He was met by a broad grin, a shock of ginger hair, and bright blue eyes all crinkled up at the corners.  
  
“You don’t work here, do you?” the man asked, words wrapped in a pleasing Scottish burr, and Bilbo shook his head.  
  
“No, but I saw-“  
  
“Pssh,” the guy said and waved his hand dismissively, silver ring with a bright pink stone glittering beneath the overhead lights inside the clothing store. “Nah, I don’t want one of them, they’ll want nothing more than to sell me stuff. What I want is an honest opinion on this shirt, and clearly you’re someone of great taste as you’ve agreed to go out with me.”  
  
“Um,” Bilbo said, blinking a few times. “I’m pretty sure I’ve not done that.”  
  
“But would you?” the man grinned, spreading his arms and doing a bit of a twirl in front of Bilbo. “And what about the shirt?”  
  
It… to be honest it should probably have been off-putting. The forwardness, not the shirt, the shirt was quite nice, if a little more… extravagant than Bilbo usually went for. Nothing wrong with golden buttons, but having all those shades of blue at once? And it was quite tight over the chest and arms, very tight indeed, Bilbo concluded after a second look. But then again if he tried it on it wouldn’t be nearly that tight. Bilbo’s arms and chest did not in any way resemble tree trunks and-  
  
“Is the shirt that horrible then?” the man asked, thick eyebrows furrowing in exaggerated despair. “To have struck you speechless.”  
  
Almost against his will Bilbo found himself rather charmed.  
  
“I don’t even know your name, and for that matter, you don’t know mine.”  
  
“Blind date it is then!” the guy nodded. “There’s one thing I need to know though.”  
  
“Which is..?”  
  
Blue eyes twinkled. “Is the shirt allowed to come?”  
  
-  
  
That was the first time Bilbo met Dáin.  
  
-  
  
“You can’t just _say_ that,” Bilbo complained. “Not in public.”  
  
“But your arse looks just as fine in public as in private,” Dáin pointed out as he wrapped his arm around Bilbo’s waist. “Even though I can’t see the pair of pretty dimples in it-“  
  
“Dáin…”  
  
“I’m just saying it deserves all the praises I can bestow upon it. As do the rest of you. From the top of your clever head down to your cute little toes.” Dáin hummed a little beneath his breath. “Special mentions to your wrists, your mouth and your cock.”  
  
“Wrists?” Bilbo asked, because out of the three that seemed to be the safer bet.  
  
“It’s like I’m some sort of too posh, weak-kneed Victorian gentleman,” Dáin whined. “You wear long sleeves so often that a flash of bare skin at your wrist makes me want to kiss you until someone takes mercy on us and just shoves a bed into the room.” He turned his head and grinned down at Bilbo. “Then we ignore the bed and I shove you up against the nearest wall and proceed to suck your brain out through your cock. Feel free to tug at my hair all your want.”  
  
“In _public_ ,” Bilbo hissed, looking around to see if any of the other people walking down the street had overheard.  
  
“I could do it in public if you want,” Dáin mused. “Not my cock that’s going to be flapping out in the breeze. Though I guess if I deep throat you-”  
  
“Dáin…” It was half moan and half sigh, and a happy little sound came from his lover’s direction.   
  
“I love you saying my name like that.”  
  
"Filled with exasperation?"  
  
"Just say the word and your trousers'll be around your knees and I'll be on mine."  
  
Bilbo snorted, but went willingly when Dáin pulled him a little closer to his side. They'd walked another half a block when Dáin spoke again.  
  
"I've never fucked you after I've blown you, have I?"  
  
"Still in public."  
  
"And I've stopped talking about your arse haven't I. Errr, fine, sort of stopped talking about your arse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quite convinced that Thorin's somewhat jealous of Dáin's charm and easy going nature.  
> But Thorin has a better brain to mouth filter, even if his is also rather wonky at times.


	16. Taboo - Kíli/Thorin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli almost fainted when Bilbo asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incest, duh.
> 
> Also a fic that wouldn't have happened without someone prompting the pairing. heh, this will sound a bit weird, but I'm generally a bit iffy about incest if it's in a parent/child situation. Sibling incest on the other hand doesn't bother me. So I'm guessing it's about the power balance and potential for abuse. And also, if you see someone in diapers I'm like... no, you don't want to have sex with that person later. 
> 
> Anyway, just for the sake of my sanity let's pretend this is a verse where Thorin was so busy when F&K were children that he didn't really see them much, not until they were adults.
> 
> Also, post canon, everyone lives AU

Kíli almost fainted when Bilbo asked.

Something cold settled in his stomach, and in a moment it’d spread throughout his body, forcing the breath from his lungs and the strength from his legs.

“Of course not,” Kíli managed to wheeze out. “I’d not- of course not. Why would- no.”  
  
Looking a little worried Bilbo took a step closer to him. “Kíli? Are you- I didn’t mean to-”

“I look at _everyone_ ,” Kíli protested, blinking to try and clear away the darkness that hovered at the edges of his vision. “I’m sure I look more at Fíli than I-“  
  
“Not like this.”  
  
When Kíli swayed a little Bilbo closed the distance between them, taking his arm and tugging him over to a chair. “Come on, sit down before you fall down. Breathe. I hear it’s quite good for you.”

Unresisting Kíli allowed himself to be led, collapsing down in the chair.  
  
“It’s all right,” Bilbo promised, kneeling down in front of him, one hand on Kíli’s leg. “Oh, drat, come on, lean forward; head between your knees. You’re paler than Glóin’s backside.”

Normally Kíli would have had a reply; a joke, ready, but as it was he barely even heard Bilbo. The Hobbit’s voice sounded as if it was coming from somewhere very far away.

The next thing he knew was a small hand stroking his hair and Bilbo humming a melody that felt familiar and foreign at the same time.

“Dwarfs,” he heard Bilbo sigh before a gentle hand nudged beneath his chin, tiling his head up and to the side. “There you are,” Bilbo said, smiling down at him from where he’d settled on the armrest.

“Hrmm?” Kíli said, blinking up at him.  
  
“Stay there,” Bilbo told him as he hopped down and went to fill a goblet with water from the pitcher standing by the front door. Kíli suspected that Hobbits were more like flowers than they wanted to admit, because one of the first things Bilbo had asked for after agreeing to stay in Erebor over winter was a room close to one of the springs.

Now Kíli was very thankful for this and he gulped down the cold liquid with three heavy swallows. Just like before it felt like something cold settled in his stomach but now it cleared his head instead of muddling it.  
  
“Bilbo, you can’t ask something like that,” Kíli said as he clutched the goblet a little harder. “It’s- you just can’t.”

“Going by your reaction I can see where there would be a problem,” Bilbo said and shook his head. “Would you like more water?”  
  
“No,” Kíli said. “Thank you,” added on as an afterthought. It was a tiny thing, but it brought a smile to Bilbo’s lips nonetheless and Kíli swallowed. It was a pretty smile. If only he could- but no. He.. was broken.  
  
“So about you being in love with Thorin-“  
  
The goblet would have fallen to the floor if Bilbo hadn’t been ready to catch it.

“This is rather serious, isn’t it,” Bilbo sighed. “I just thought you needed a little push, but apparently I’ve gone and shoved you over a cliff of some sort.”

“Bilbo you can’t tell _anyone_ ,” Kíli said, words falling over each other as they tumbled from his tongue. As soon as he’d finished speaking his eyes widened as he realised that it sounded like a confession. “I mean-“  
  
The world started to go dark around the edges again, but things cleared up when Bilbo took his hand and pinched the loose skin between his thumb and index finger. Hard.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Bilbo said and petted the back of his hand. “But no more passing out.”

Slumping back against the chair Kíli closed his eyes. “It’s forbidden,” he mumbled. “Perverse.”  
  
Not having to look at Bilbo helped. “He’s my uncle. My mother’s brother. I’m not- I can’t-“  
  
“He looks at you too.”  
  
Kíli’s eyes shot open and Bilbo; now kneeling next to the chair again, shrugged.  
  
“That’s what I meant with giving you a push. I thought if you knew that he was looking _back_ at you then you could-“  
  
“He’s _not_ ,” Kíli said, wincing when his voice wavered on the last word. “He wouldn’t. Thorin is- he’s the- he would _never_ -“ He took a deep breath. “He looks at me, yes, the same as he looks at Fíli. Like we’re his-“  
  
Bilbo made a disdainful noise. “He doesn’t look at Fíli like he does you. It’s not the same. He loves both of you, yes, but he’s only _in_ love with you.”  
  
Kíli flinched. “You don’t know what you’re saying. It’s forbidden.”  
  
“Yes, you’ve said, and while I can’t see _why_ it’s forbidden considering that the both of you are adults, and males at that, so no babes, I’m quite convinced that the heart doesn’t care one smidge about what’s supposed to be forbidden or not.”

When Kíli didn’t speak Bilbo reached out and touched his fingers to Kíli’s hand.

“I can ask him if he’s in love with you, and not say that I’ve already spoken to you.”

Lowering his head Kíli bit his bottom lip and tried to sort out the whirlpool of emotions inside of him. Dread. Fear. Shame. But… hardly more than a speck, there was also hope.

Just knowing that he wasn’t alone… That Thorin…

“He’ll be furious with you.”  
  
Bilbo’s lips twitched. “Not a problem. I’ve just waited for him to stop apologising every other time he sees me. This might be just the way.”

-  
  
It was a bit cruel, Bilbo knew it was, but he still couldn’t resist asking Thorin just after he’d dipped his feather pen in the inkwell.  
  
“So, you’re in love with your nephew?”  
  
The resulting black-blue mess on the pristine bit of parchment was a waste to be sure, but now Bilbo considered himself and Thorin squared for all Halfling comments, as well as the grocer one.

“I’m not in love with Kíli,” Thorin denied without meeting Bilbo’s eyes. His voice was strained and cold, but as he put down the pen Bilbo couldn’t help but notice that Thorin’s hand had trembled just a little.  
  
And also-  
  
“Funny how I didn’t mention _which_ nephew?” Bilbo said studying his nails with feigned interest. When he looked back up at Thorin he did feel a little guilty.

Thorin was not quite as pale as Kíli had been, but it was a close thing. And the look in his eyes, it was rather similar to what he’d looked like as he apologised after the battle; full of regret and shame. And pain.  
  
Only this time it wasn’t from a frightening large wound in his side.  
  
“You Dwarfs are very peculiar about this aren’t you?” Bilbo murmured.  
  
When Thorin flew out of his chair Bilbo made a surprised little sound and pressed himself a little closer to the back of the chair.  
  
“Who else have you said this too?” Thorin demanded as he came to stand before Bilbo, his hands on the chair’s armrests; keeping Bilbo trapped between himself and the chair. “ _Who_?”  
  
After a short debate with himself Bilbo decided to be honest.  
  
“Kíli.”  
  
He was not at all prepared for Thorin to stagger backwards as if he’d been struck.

“I did not think you hated me,” Thorin said, almost pleadingly.  
  
“I don’t hate you,” Bilbo protested.  
  
“Then why have you done this?” Thorin sank down to his knees. “Please, go to him. Tell him that it’s not true.”  
  
“But it is true, isn’t it?” Bilbo asked, nervously tapping his fingers against the chair. Dwarfs… it was rather hard to try and play matchmaker between two so dramatic people.  
  
Thorin did not reply, but the silence spoke volumes.  
  
“Well, good,” Bilbo said. “I’d hate to tell him that I’d been mistaken.”  
  
Wounded blue eyes looked at him and Bilbo shook his head.  
  
“Really now, haven’t I already proven that I’m your friend? Thorin, I’m not doing this to be cruel. Kíli-“  
  
“Will never speak to me again,” Thorin murmur. “Nor will his brother. But it is only right.”  
  
“If I could continue,” Bilbo sighed. “Kíli loves you too. Not just as an uncle, but in that sort of way that made him more or less pass out when I asked him. He knows I’m here. And he knows what I was going to ask you.”  
  
For several long moments Thorin sat frozen on the floor. When at last he spoke Bilbo had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.  
  
“It’s forbidden.”  
  
“You can’t forbid two people from being in love,” Bilbo sighed. “That’s not the way feelings work. Obviously.”  
  
“Is it-“ Thorin hesitated. “Obvious?”  
  
“It would seem not,” Bilbo said and got up from his chair. He trotted over to Thorin and held out a hand. “Up you go.”  
  
Thorin did not take it, but he did get up from the floor, going to sit down at his desk once again. By habit he picked up his feather pen, stroking his finger along the soft-sharp edge of it.  
  
“It’s not possible.”  
  
“Why would I lie?”  
  
Thorin stared down at his hands, at the brown-grey feather. “I do not know.”  
  
“Then perhaps I’m not lying.”  
  
Thorin looked up as Bilbo’s small hand spread itself out over his clenched fist. “Time to go to Kíli. The poor thing is probably climbing on the walls at this point.”  
  
-  
  
When Thorin stopped outside Kíli’s door, staring at it as if there’d be another dragon behind it, Bilbo walked around him and knocked before stepping aside.  
  
The door opened almost instantly.  
  
“Thorin,” Kíli said, brown eyes wide and frightened.  
  
“Kíli,” Thorin rumbled, and if not for the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his side you’d almost think he was his normal somewhat surly self.  
  
“Bilbo,” Bilbo said. “All of us standing here in the hallway. Perhaps we can go inside? I promise I won’t stay long.”  
  
Kíli stepped aside, not taking his eyes off Thorin, and after a nudge in the back Thorin moved forwards, Bilbo following.  
  
“Right,” Bilbo said after the door had closed. “You both know what we’ve been talking about. I’m now banning the word forbidden. And to clarify something I told Thorin, I don’t think anyone else has figured it out. The two of you obviously hadn’t. And if this is as unusual as the two of you make it sound like I’m betting it’s not a conclusion people would jump to.”  
  
“That being said,” Bilbo added. “What the two of you do in the privacy of your own chambers I think would be no one else’s business as long as you’re both happy with it. Keep it a secret if you think there’s reason for it but-“  
  
“I can’t do this,” Thorin said and Kíli’s face crumbled so quickly it would have been funny if the circumstances hadn’t been what they were. “If anyone finds out- Kíli it would ruin your life.”

“Is Bilbo right then?” Kíli asked, swaying forward. “Thorin, do you-“  
  
“I-“ Thorin lowered his head. “Yes. I’m so sorry. I’ve- I must have done something, to make you feel this way. Influenced you with my own _sick_ desires.”  
  
Bilbo cleared his throat. “I’m banning that word too.”  
  
“It feels like a madness,” Thorin continued without really paying any attention to him. “Worse than the gold sickness. How can I feel like this about my own flesh and blood?” When he looked up again his eyes seemed to glow. “I lie awake at night, thoughts of you in my mind. Your laughter, your gracefulness, but also-“ Thorin swallowed and shook his head. “I can’t-“  
  
“I lie in my bed, with my cock hard, and your name upon my lips,” Kíli breathed. “And I don’t dare touch myself lest I think about you when I-“  
  
“ _Kíli_ ,” Thorin said, more moan than actual word.  
  
“And that’s my cue,” Bilbo said, with his hand on the door knob. “But before I go; while it’s not an optimal solution I’d like to remind you that I’ve got more than a spare room in Bag End. And while people might ask how you came to know each other no one would try to throw you in a dungeon for it. “ When Thorin opened his mouth Bilbo raised his other hand. “Just putting it out there. No need for comments now. I wish the both of you a good night.”  
  
And with that he opened the door and slipped outside.  
  
The door had just closed when it was opened again.  
  
“Oh, and maybe lock the door?” Bilbo added, giving them both a small smile.  
  
-  
  
They stood there looking for each for what felt like an eternity to them both.  
  
Who made the first move no one would be able to say later, but suddenly they were moving, and then they were close enough to feel the heat of the other’s body.  
  
Raising a trembling hand to cup the side of Kíli’s face Thorin leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. They were almost of an height, had been for quite some time now.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” Kíli murmured, his breath hot and sweet against Thorin’s lips. “Sometimes I almost made myself forget about it. Almost. I only remembered at night, in bed, when all the other thoughts disappeared somewhere else.”

A warm, calloused hand settled on the back of Thorin’s neck; fingers tangling in dark and silver strands.  
  
“I could never forget,” Thorin whispered.  
  
“I’d like to kiss you,” Kíli said, always so brave, and Thorin brushed his thumb over the soft-rough scruff covering his cheek and nodded.

As their lips met a knot inside Thorin came undone. What the future would bring was impossible to say, but for now, in this moment, he had everything he’d ever wanted within arm’s reach.  
  
Kíli brought his other hand up to tangle in Thorin’s hair as well, unconsciously making it more difficult for Thorin to move away. Not that he’d needed to worry.  
  
-

Both of them had spent so long wanting, yearning and denying, and now they were desperate. Starved.  
  
They could hardly separate long enough for hands to find skin instead of cloth, and when Kíli tried to pull Thorin towards the bedroom they were still kissing and ended up bumping into the wall instead of going through the doorway.  
  
Kíli moaned in protest when Thorin pulled away.  
  
“Are you all right? Thorin asked, his voice raspy and wrecked and Kíli’s cock throbbed at the sound of it.  
  
“Never better,” Kíli promised and closed the distance between them once more.  
  
They didn’t make it to the bed that first time. Instead Thorin sank to his knees, ripping at the lacing of Kíli’s trousers until they were loose enough that he could push them down narrow hips.  
  
Too narrow, Kíli knew that. But you’d not know it from Thorin’s rapt expression.  
  
Hooking his thumbs in Kíli’s small clothes Thorin looked up at him, waiting for permission.  
  
“Please,” Kíli groaned, hands fluttering over Thorin’s head; stroking his hair, his cheek, tracing his jaw, tugging lightly at beard and braids. “Oh, _please_.”  
  
Kíli’s cock was thick and of a good length, curving slightly to the left, and the pink head was just peeking out from inside its sheath of skin. As Thorin watched more and more appeared, and his own cock twitched from the knowledge that Kíli was getting hard for him, _because_ of him.  
  
Not able to resist any longer Thorin leaned forward and took Kíli into his mouth.  
  
He was not going to last long, he knew that, and Kíli groaned and clutched at Thorin’s shoulders, leaning against the wall to try and help his trembling knees keep him upright.  
  
Thorin’s eyes had fluttered closed and he kept making muffled little moans as he worked his mouth up and down Kíli’s shaft, hands pumping what he could not fit inside his mouth.  
  
It was close to impossible to keep his hips still and Kíli was close to trembling from the effort. Or perhaps it was due to other reasons. It was so difficult to believe that this was real.  
  
“Want to- touch you,” Kíli managed, tugging slightly at one of Thorin’s braids to try and get his attention. “Suck you, fuck you, have you fuck me.”  
  
He cried out as Thorin cupped his stones, rolling them gently in his hand.  
  
“Please say you will,” Kíli panted. “All of it.”

Despite knowing that it was not possible for Thorin to reply with his mouth full of cock Kíli still whined in process as Thorin pulled back.  
  
“All of it,” he rumbled, working his hand up and down Kíli’s now slick cock; slick with spit and precome. “Kíli. Whatever you want.”  
  
“You,” Kíli whispered. “I want you.”  
  
“And you have me.” With that Thorin took him inside his mouth again, cheeks hollowing as he sucked and with disbelief and awe Kíli traced shaking fingers over the bulge of his cock in Thorin’s cheek.  
  
He was not at all prepared for Thorin to take him deeper, not prepared for Thorin to swallow around him, nor for the groan that seemed to echo in Kíli’s very bones.  
  
If it hadn’t been for Thorin’s firm grip on his hips Kíli would have choked him on his cock, fucking his throat with senseless instinct, but as it were his hips only twitched in Thorin’s hold, and when Thorin swallowed again-  
  
“I’m-“ Kíli’s head was spinning. “ _Thorin_. I’m-“  
  
Thorin hummed and pulled back slightly, enough to catch the first spurt of hot seed on his tongue.  
  
The feel, scent, sounds, taste, not to mention the _sight_ of Kíli lost in pleasure was more than enough to push Thorin so close to the edge that the pleasure-pain of Kíli tugging again on his hair was enough to push him over it.  
  
As he tried to swallow all that Kíli was giving him Thorin’s cock pulsed out thick streaks of come inside his trousers, twitching as it spurted untouched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unexpectedly long  
> should probably have read through it again, but it's late and I need to sleeeeeep
> 
> Watcha think? Definitely not something I've written before.


	17. Passive - Bofur/Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time a statue was made.

Once upon a time a statue was made.   
  
Bofur was more used to making dolls and toys, and working with cloth and wood instead of stone, but one day he woke up with an unfamiliar yearning.  
  
It was easy enough to acquire a block of grey and white marble and Bofur didn’t even hesitate pour beginning to chisel out the rough form of what he knew lay dormant inside the stone.  
  
He’d never worked as quickly in his life and not many days had passed when Bofur finished.  
  
The statue was in the likeness of a creature that Bofur had never seen before. At a glance it could perhaps be confused with a Dwarf, because it was roughly the same size and shape. A little smaller, a little softer around the edges, but more or less the same.  
  
Anyone who took a second glance would soon find a myriad of reasons why it could not be a Dwarf, from the delicate fingers and ears; pointy ears at that, and the big feet and curly hair. No, it was not the shape of a Dwarf that Bofur had found inside the marble.

“What are you?” Bofur asked as he trailed his fingers down one smooth, cold shoulder and to the palm of his strange little creation. It was sitting down with its legs crossed, hands resting in its lap. The posture was relaxed, comfortable, but the tilt of its head made it expectant. It was waiting for something. Or, perhaps someone.  
  
“And _who_ are you,” Bofur added, shaking his head. “Everyone needs a name.”  
  
He often named the dolls he made, and the little animals too, and quite obviously this was a person of some sort, so it should have a name.

In the coming weeks Bofur tried out a wide variety of names, but nothing seemed to fit.

He’d never even expected he’d still have the statue around after a few weeks’ time. What Bofur had expected was to sell it if it turned out decent enough, and if not he could always hack it up into smaller pieces and make dice and whatever else that caught his fancy.  
  
That was not something he could ever envision doing now, but he didn’t want to sell his sculpture either. The very thought was upsetting, even Bombur joking about it made something squirm inside Bofur’s stomach.  
  
More weeks passed and instead of finding a name Bofur only found more questions. What colour would those wild curls be? And the smiling eyes? The skin which was now a mottled white and grey, what colour would that be?  
  
And inside of the expression his statue was wearing now, how would other emotions look on those fine features. Would a smile prompt lines around its eyes and mouth? How would the small nose look scrunched up joyful laugh? And would it have a voice?  
  
“And if you had a voice, would you care to finally tell me your name?” Bofur said as he traced the curve of a smooth, beardless cheek and jaw.   
  
Of course there was no reply and Bofur sighed. “I think I made you entirely too pretty,” he said, half-joking, half-serious. “It’s always the pretty ones who think it’s all right to just sit on their arse and look nice. As if no one else would expect anything else from them.”  
  
Another couple of weeks went by and instead of trying to figure out how his statue would be like Bofur started to think about what it would enjoy.   
  
And eventually-  
  
“I wonder if you’d like me,” Bofur said softly as he curled his fingers around one delicate wrist. “I quite like you. Probably a little too much. Bom’s always teased me about being a little too pleased with my own work. And I think this is the worst of it by far.”

Looking into sightless eyes Bofur leaned in and pressed his lips to the corner of a mouth with pretty and plump lips, but instead of responding they of course remained stiff and unyielding.   
  
“And you’re not even made _for_ me,” Bofur murmured as he kissed also the other corner. “Just by me. And that’s, that’s not the same at all.”  
  
That night when Bofur came home the statue was gone.  
  
To see the empty space in the middle of his sitting room felt like being thrown into the middle of an icy lake.

Even the blanket he’d usually drape over it during the day, it felt a little wrong, but he also didn’t want it to just stand there and get dusty, was gone.  
  
Then he heard a creaking noise from his bedroom.  
  
It did not make sense for a thief to break in and steal a statue that likely would need two or three people to lift only to then curl up on Bofur’s bed beneath the dust blanket and go to sleep, but that appeared to be what had happened.

“What have you-“  
  
The blanket stirred, and when a tousled head of honey coloured curls became visible Bofur’s jaw dropped.  
  
Pretty pink lips parted in a yawn that displayed even white teeth, at least until the yawn was covered by a small hand, but the endearingly scrunched up nose was still visible.

“You’re late,” his statue-come-to-life complained as it sat up, settling in a very familiar crossed legged position, the blanket pooling in its lap. It tilted its head and smiled up at him, a few lines appearing around the corners of its eyes. “I’ll forgive you if you’ll stop putting this dratted blanket over my head and-“  
  
“How is this possible,” Bofur breathed as he slowly walked closer to the bed.  
  
“How should I know, you’re the one who made me.” The statue shrugged slightly, round shoulders rising and falling, and the movement also called Bofur’s attention to its chest with the perky pink nipples sitting like the prettiest of decoration on its pale golden skin.  
  
“Name,” Bofur croaked. “What’s your name?”  
  
“I’m Bilbo,” the statue smiled. “And I’m yours. Just like you’re mine.”  
  
“This is a dream,” Bofur murmured as he climbed up on the bed, settling on his knees in front of his- his, Bilbo. “It’s got to be a dream.”  
  
“I don’t think so,” Bilbo said and reached out for Bofur’s hand. “I’ve had dreams. They’re not at all as nice as this.”  
  
“Fair point,” Bofur admitted as his hand squeezed and was squeezed by clever little fingers. “ _Bilbo_.”

“Oh I _like_ that,” Bilbo sighed. “Again?”  
  
“Bilbo,” Bofur said again, and when Bilbo made a soft little sound and shivered Bofur leaned closer. “Bilbo.”  
  
“Bofur,” Bilbo murmured, meeting him halfway for the kiss.  
  
The lips that had been so cold and inflexible before now parted beneath his and a curious tongue sought out his own. 

“Right,” Bofur said somewhat hoarsely when they parted for breath. A lovely tinge of pink had shown up on the- on _Bilbo_ ’s cheeks, and it seemed to be spreading down his neck to his chest. “Bit rude to ask, but are you male, female or..?”  
  
Bilbo looked down into his lap, at the small tent that the blanket had formed.

“I’m quite sure I’m male, but you’ve _made_ me, shouldn’t you already know?”  
  
“I didn’t want to presume,” Bofur said apologetically.

“I don’t see why it’s even important,” Bilbo huffed. “I’m Bilbo. I said I’m yours, that’s the important thing isn’t it?”  
  
“And… I’m yours?” Bofur asked, a little unsure.  
  
“I do hope so,” Bilbo murmured before he leaned in, cupping Bofur’s face in his hands before kissing him again. “It’s only fair,” he added between kisses. “If we’re both belong to each other.”  
  
“Sounds fair indeed,” Bofur agreed, stroking his hands up and down impossibly soft skin. He’d made it, chipping off bit by bit of hard marble. Only now it was warm beneath his touch, and he could feel the rise and fall of Bilbo’s chest beneath his hands, feel the steady thump of his heartbeat, and warm puffs of breath against his own lips as they traded kisses.

“And speaking of fairness,” Bilbo said and Bofur made a small noise of complaint as Bilbo pulled back. “You’re wearing too many clothes and I’d like some. Nice ones. Not now, obviously, but for later. I’ve been naked for ages.”  
  
“It’s difficult to make stone look like cloth,” Bofur defended. “Bloody miracle that your curls came out as nicely as they did, tiny little soft things as they are. Tiny soft little thing _you_ are.”  
  
“I’m not tiny and soft,” Bilbo protested and Bofur made a noncommittal sound. Part of him was still incredibly confused about what was going on, but the larger part told him that this was _right._ This was how things should be.   
  
Bilbo huffed. “I’ll show you soft,” he said, tugging at Bofur shirt. “You made me out of _marble_.”  
  
“Granite is harder,” Bofur said as he tried his best to help with the undressing as Bilbo’s hands opened buttons and tugged on laces with enough speed that Bofur couldn’t quite keep up. “And I wanted the marble.”  
  
“You wanted _me_ ,” Bilbo said, smugness and matter-of-fact-ness mixed together. “And now I want you.”

“You can have me,” Bofur promised, and Bilbo’s eyes lit up. Bofur still wasn’t sure which colour they were exactly, but he’d have time to find out. Mahal willing, he’d have plenty of time.  
  
After all of Bofur’s clothes were gone, as well as Bilbo’s blanket, Bilbo asked Bofur to lie back.  
  
“I think it’s my turn now,” Bilbo said as he spread his hands out over Bofur’s chest and stomach, fingers exploring the dip and curve of the muscles sprinkled with tufts of dark hair. “I’ve not been able to touch you before.”  
  
“And I can’t touch you?”  
  
“In a little bit,” Bilbo said, somewhat distracted as he’d just found out what kind of result playing with Bofur’s nipples would get. As Bilbo moved one hand to punch and tug at his own nipples Bofur groaned again and arched his chest upwards towards Bilbo’s touch.  
  
“You like it more than I do,” Bilbo stated, both hands back on Bofur’s chest again.

“Different strokes for different folks,” Bofur said, hands twitching at his sides with the need to reach out and touch. “Please, Bilbo, I _need_ to touch you.”  
  
“Oh,” Bilbo looked a little startled over the strained note in Bofur’s voice. “Well, go on then.”  
  
“Thank you,” Bofur breathed, tugging Bilbo down to lie on top of him, the soft, round squish of Bilbo moulding against Bofur’s sturdier form. When he moved his hands to Bilbo’s arse that earned him a surprised squeak, but also Bilbo’s hips rocking down against his own, the hot, hard length of his cock sliding against Bofur’s hip, and Bofur’s own erection pushing up against Bilbo’s belly.  
  
“Yes, just like that,” Bofur groaned, spreading his legs to make room for Bilbo between them before squeezing Bilbo’s arse again, and again when it prompted another squeak and roll of Bilbo’s hips. “Do you like that?”  
  
“ _Yes_. You never touched me there before,” Bilbo panted against Bofur’s neck.   
  
“Bit difficult since you were sitting down,” Bofur snorted, kneading Bilbo’s arse, dipping two fingers between his cheeks to see if he could- “How about that?” he asked as he stroked the blunt tip of his finger over Bilbo’s hole. “Something we could try later?”  
  
“Now?” Bilbo suggested, squirming backwards. “It feels… it tickles. But inside.”  
  
“Can’t do it now,” Bofur said and shook his head a little. “Nothing to slick the way. But later, if you want.”  
  
“I definitely want,” Bilbo said, working his hand down between them to curl around Bofur’s cock. “And can I touch you like that too?”  
  
“If you’d like to I’d be happy to have you,” Bofur promised, trying to resist humping up against the delightful creature on top of him. “I like it either way.”  
  
“Good,” Bilbo said, giving him a sweet smile. “I think I want you in all the ways I can have you.”  
  
“Not going to argue that,” Bofur said and leaned up to taste that smile.  
  
One hand on Bilbo’s arse, Bofur’s other ended up wrapped around them both, Bilbo crouched on his hands and knees on top of Bofur, hips rocking into the slide of Bofur’s fist around their cocks.  
  
For some reason Bofur had expected Bilbo to come quickly, perhaps because it was his first time – and that was a thought that was both scary and exciting at the same time - but they came almost at the same time.  
  
Though there was of course the possibility that it was Bofur who spurted a lot quicker than normal, in which case, he’d argue that anyone would have done the same if they’d shared their bed with an impossible dream turned into sweet, eager temptation that wanted nothing more than to touch and be touched.  
  
Either way it was actually Bofur who came first, hiding his groan in Bilbo’s neck, panting wetly as he spurted thick strings of seed over the both of them.  
  
“Oh,” Bilbo said, his eyes round and dark, and then he came as well, shuddering and shivering and Bofur tried his best to keep stroking him, working him through what must have been his first ever peak. “We’re definitely doing that again,” Bilbo murmured afterwards, cuddling closer to Bofur and tangling his fingers in Bofur’s long unruly locks. “It was _lovely_.”  
  
“You’re lovely,” Bofur whispered, pressing his lips against the side of Bilbo’s head. “So very, very lovely.”  
  
“Hmmm, you too,” Bilbo said and stretched languidly. “Perhaps you finding me clothes is not that urgent after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ssssh, don't question the magic. Maybe Mahal did it.


	18. Worship - Bilbo/Thorin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, a Bilbo/Thorin snuck in here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peeeeeeeps! I've got tumblr now :D:  
> Still alkjira, so http://alkjira.tumblr.com/  
> If I know you, and you've got a tumblr wanna come and see me screw up as I learn what the hell I'm doing?

“Where are we going?” Bilbo asked as Thorin led him by the hand through the long dimly lit halls of Erebor.  
  
“To a private place,” Thorin replied.  
  
“Ah,” Bilbo said. “Private as in… _private_?”  
  
Thorin smiled and brushed his thumb over Bilbo’s knuckles. “You could say that it is a place of worship. Of sort.”  
  
“Oh,” Bilbo said, and Thorin didn’t think he’d imagined the note of disappointment. It wasn’t long before Bilbo perked up again though. “So it’s for Aulë? Mahal, that is.”  
  
“Yes and no,” Thorin replied. “It’s the Halls of Memories.”  
  
“Memories?”  
  
“You’ll see.”  
  
-

By a miracle Thorin had found the Halls to be entirely untouched by the Wyrm. They were exactly has they had been left, exactly as he remembered.

Great statues lined the sides of the first room, marble, granite and basalt keeping the memory of the Kings who came before Thorin. But not even stone would stand forever, which was why the room was so much more than a gallery of Kings.

“All those who have ruled Erebor stands here,” Thorin explained as Bilbo took in the room with wide eyes. “Of course there has not yet been time for a statue with my own likeness to be done.”  
  
“This is rather strange,” Bilbo remarked, his voice hushed. “Isn’t it strange? To picture yourself as a large figure of stone, standing here- oh, no, what have they done?”  
  
As he talked Bilbo had walked close enough to one of the statues to notice what had been done to it.  
  
“They’ve written on it?” Bilbo said. “There’re runes all over it. And that’s paint, and-“  
  
“That is as it should be,” Thorin promised, coming up to stand beside Bilbo, wrapping his arm around his Hobbit. “Memory is malleable. It will change with time. It must change. Otherwise we’d spend the rest of our lives grieving each loss and defeat instead of planning for new victories. In the library we preserve our history, dates, events, the outcomes of great battles, births, deaths. But this is not a room for such things.”  
  
“This is a room to deface statues?” Bilbo asked, turning his head to look up at Thorin.

“To leave _your_ memories of those who’ve ruled.” Thorin nodded at the statue. “Everything from thanks and tribute to curses. Nothing is ever removed, but adding is allowed. So if you want to make your opinion known it’s best to add it high enough that it’s not easy for someone to come along and cover your words with their own.”  
  
Bilbo blinked as looked higher, up where the messages grew more sparse. “I say again, this is strange.”  
  
Thorin chuckled. “Come, this is not the room I wanted to show you. We can speak more of it another time.”  
  
They walked through three more rooms before they arrived at the one Thorin wanted, and unlike the other they’d passed, this one was entirely empty.  
  
“Let me guess, this is the room of things you’ve forgotten entirely?” Bilbo asked as he spun around in a slow circle to see if there was something he’d missed.

“The complete opposite,” Thorin said and caught Bilbo’s hand, twining his fingers with Bilbo’s smaller ones. “This is where you go when you wish for a memory to live on forever.”  
  
Bilbo looked around again. “I’m not following?”  
  
“I will show you,” Thorin murmured, bending down to press his mouth against Bilbo’s. After the moment of surprise had passed Bilbo answered readily, his lips parting and his small, soft but sturdy form pushed up against Thorin’s as his hands found their way into Thorin’s unbound hair.   
  
“Before the Desolation,” Thorin murmured as he nudged Bilbo’s head to the side so he could press kisses down the smooth column of his throat. “There would be people here, to watch us as we did this.”  
  
“Mmm? Wait, what?” Bilbo twitched a little and his fingers tightened in Thorin’s hair. “ _What_?”

“By allowing them to watch we share our memory with them. And by sharing the memory we make it so that people can remember it, and us, what we are to each other, long after we’ve gone.”  
  
“So people come here and, erm, tup each other?”  
  
Thorin could not resist leaning in to press a kiss a kiss to Bilbo’s nose, as it was unbearably endearing wrinkled as it was.  
  
“Yes, but not only that. Marriage ceremonies are often preformed here. Or other things that people wish to be shared. There are rules of course, to prevent such things as slander and-“  
  
“But not public lovemaking?” Bilbo tilted his head to the side. “Such a thing would definitely be frowned upon back in Hobbiton.”  
  
“Children are not allowed to be present during such occasions,” Thorin promised. “And of course the people involved has to be willing.”  
  
“As must the people watching I assume,” Bilbo murmured. “Though I guess they could just leav- Hang on, I thought you said it was private? Before we came here?”

“Is there anyone else here with us?” Thorin asked, eyebrow quirking upwards.  
  
When Bilbo actually looked around again a small smile made its way to Thorin’s lips. “I know you wish for things to be private, that is why I wanted to come here now.”  
  
“But- there’s no one here.” Bilbo bit his bottom lip. “Which is not a complaint, but I don’t understand.”  
  
“The walls are here,” Thorin said and shrugged slightly. “The stone will remember us.”  
  
“I do hope the stone doesn’t gossip,” Bilbo muttered. “I’m sorry, but the idea of making love with people watching is-“  
  
“I know,” Thorin promised. “I would not ask that of you. But I would like to show you off anyway.”  
  
“Even though there’s no one here,” Bilbo said, a little sceptically.   
  
“Even so,” Thorin said and lifted his hand to cup Bilbo’s face. “Would that be acceptable?”  
  
“I guess?”  
  
“I always appreciate your passion,” Thorin murmured and Bilbo snorted and smacked him lightly on the chest.  
  
“Oh, hush you.”  
  
“There are several ways of keeping me quiet,” Thorin said and dropped to his knees. “May I suggest this one?” he added, lifting a hand to press his palm against the crotch of Bilbo’s trousers, rubbing gently of the stirring flesh beneath.  
  
It was gratifying to see Bilbo’s eyes grow dark with desire. Gratifying and rousing, and Thorin’s cock twitched inside his own trousers.  
  
“Will I ever stop being surprised by your customs?” Bilbo asked as he gently carded his hand through Thorin’s hair, moving down to brush his fingers through Thorin’s beard.  
  
“This from someone who eats mouldy cheese and believes that handkerchiefs are of utmost importance,” Thorin replied as he rubbed his cheek against the still mostly soft bulge in front of him. “You are just as strange of a creature, Bilbo Baggins of Bag End. And I love you all the more for it.”  
  
“And I you,” Bilbo said. “Which, if we’re showing off, then I’d like to touch you as well instead of just standing here like I was one of the statues in that first room. You didn’t think to bring any oil with you?”  
  
A little surprised Thorin moved back enough to look up at him. “Truly?”  
  
“Well, it’s not that strange of an assumption to make considering-“  
  
“No, I mean, you’d wish to do that here?”  
  
“I _would_ prefer a bed to be present,” Bilbo tugged teasingly at a lock of Thorin’s hair. “But I’m not expecting you to have a bed in your pocket. Now come back up here so I can kiss you.”  


-  
  
In a way it was perhaps for the best that the room was empty except for the two of them. At least that’s the thought which flew through Thorin’s mind as he watched Bilbo lie down on the nest they’d made out of their clothes.  
  
They’d kissed enough that Bilbo was flushed and sweetly pliant, wanting only to touch and be touched and wanting for more kisses. At least until the moment when he would decid that he also wanted something else, and then he’d turn back into his usual headstrong self and nudge and push and direct Thorin after his pleasure.  
  
Thorin loved both these sides of his Hobbit, but this gorgeously soft and greedy creature would be a temptation to anyone who saw him.  
  
“Come on then,” Bilbo urged, reaching out for Thorin, and Thorin went willingly into his embrace.

“Do we need to be quick?” Bilbo asked, arching up against him, twining his arms around Thorin’s neck.  
  
“They know not to look for us.”  
  
Bilbo twitched a little. “If that means that they know what we’re doing I’m not going to be able to look anyone in the eyes afterwards.”  
  
“I did not tell anyone exactly what we were doing, but they know we’re in the Halls of Memories.”  
  
“Ah,” Bilbo said as he wrapped his legs around Thorin’s hips. “Plausible deniability.”  
  
-  
  
As always the feeling of sinking into Bilbo was divine, and Thorin groaned and gritted his teeth with the effort of not moving before Bilbo was ready for it.   
  
“Now, now, now,” Bilbo chanted, big feet digging into Thorin’s backside. “More, please, _Thorin_.”  
  
Pressing forward until he was entirely sheathed inside Bilbo’s snug warmth Thorin focused on breathing, and tried to think of other -much less pleasant- things, and not the way Bilbo’s body seemed to clutch at him as if wanting nothing more than to drain him dry.  
  
“Just- a moment,” Bilbo gasped, his channel twitching around Thorin's cock. “It has been a while.”  
  
They’d not lain together like this since their stay at the Skinchanger’s home. There had been opportunity, and a bed, available in Laketown, but since Bilbo had found a nasty cold during their escape from the Elven King’s hall Thorin had been more interested in making sure Bilbo was fed, and warm and comfortable, and below as many layers of blankets as he desired.  
  
Hiding his face in Bilbo’s neck Thorin pressed kisses to the sweat-slick skin, dragging his teeth over a spot he knew to be particularly sensitive.   
  
Since he only needed one hand to brace himself over Bilbo it meant that there was one available to squeeze and knead at Bilbo’s soft chest, and once his thumb had found a nipple Thorin rubbed several slow circles around it before brushing over it in a barely there caress.

“Oh,” Bilbo panted. “Oh. Move. I’m-“  
  
Even though he desperately wished to move, it still took a great deal of willpower to pull away from the snug, slick grasp of Bilbo’s body. Sinking back in again was bliss, especially as it caused Bilbo’s reddened lips to part on a silent moan, as well as make his head fall back and thus presenting more of his neck for Thorin’s hungry eyes, and equally hungry lips and teeth.  
  
Gently rolling his hips Thorin shifted on each inside push until he found the angle he’d been looking for; the one that made Bilbo’s eyes widen and a small squeak force its way out of his throat.  
  
Pulling back until only the head of his cock was left to spread Bilbo’s hole, Thorin snapped his hips forward.  
  
“Again,” Bilbo groaned, hands digging into Thorin’s shoulders. “Thorin, darling, please.”  
  
“Shhh,” Thorin whispered, nudging their lips together to steal a kiss before he did as he was asked. Once their bodies had begun rocking together with a rhythm older than even Erebor it was impossible to keep their mouths pressed together, but even the feel of Bilbo’s breath against his skin caused shivers of pleasure to race down Thorin’s spine.  
  
“Yours forever,” Thorin swore against Bilbo’s cheek. “In this world, as well as the one that will come after.”  
  
“And I’m yours,” Bilbo gasped. “Thorin, always.”  
  
And the walls watched and remembered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, this potential aspect of Dwarven culture just happened


	19. Power - Bard/Thranduil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s wrong?” Thranduil asked, stopping with his cock still so very deep inside of Bard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (apparently I fail at adding tags, but never mind)
> 
> Bit of a dom/sub thing, and a safe word fail, but not because it was ignored by the dom

Getting fucked with just spit and his own come as lube had sounded like a brilliant idea; Bard’s toes had curled just thinking of it, and it was exactly that good, at least at first.  
  
Bard went from boneless and pliant to slightly tense and a lot more uncomfortable as the ‘lube’ did just what lube should not do and dried a little too much; going from a decadently messy and slick slide to something that might actually be uncomfortable before very long.  
  
Still, he hesitated to use his safe word, because even though it might sting a little he didn’t want it to end. It still felt good, there was a lot more pleasure than pain as Thranduil kept nudging against his prostate on every single stroke, but also… He didn’t want to disappoint. If he was an Elf this likely would not be a problem.   
  
Thranduil should finish soon anyway, and Bard wasn’t supposed to come now anyway. Not again.   
  
And it _did_ feel good, just not… all the time.  
  
But he should have known that he’d not been able to hide what was going on.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Thranduil asked, stopping with his cock still so very deep inside of Bard.   
  
Bard hesitated for a little too long and Thranduil made a low concerned noise, and then he pulled out, making Bard wince a little as he did so. And making him wince because he’d winced, because if Thranduil hadn’t know before then he definitely would now.

“You must tell me when something is wrong,” Thranduil said as he gently brushed the pad of his thumb over Bard’s hole, making the small ring of muscle twitch. “I’m sorry. I should have known that we’d need proper lubrication.”  
  
Twisting to look back at Thranduil Bard began to apologise, “I’m so-“  
  
“Ah,” Thranduil shook his head. “What exactly are you sorry for? Certainly not for feeling pain.”  
  
“For not telling you then.”  
  
“Then I forgive you if you promise not to do it again.”   
  
Leaning over Bard, pushing him down into the mattress and at the same down rubbing his erection against the small of Bard’s back, Thranduil kissed the corner of Bard’s mouth.  
  
“Are you too sore too continue? Truthfully.”  
  
“I would not lie to you,” Bard protested.  
  
“I certainly would hope that you wouldn’t,” Thranduil said, fisting his hand in Bard’s hair, tugging lightly. “Pain can have its place, but then it will be pain we’ve agreed on, not pain that you chose to suffer through without telling me. I won’t have you pretending while you’re in bed with me.”  
  
“If you get the oil we can continue,” Bard said, meeting Thranduil’s bright gaze. “I promise.”  
  
“Then I will do so.” Tugging Bard’s head to the side Thranduil took his mouth in a proper kiss. “I will slick myself up and sink back into you, and you will tell me if that’s enough.”  
  
“Sure,” Bard said a little breathlessly. “I can do that.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this pairing is rather popular but I still say Bard/Lindir and Thranduil/Dáin ;)


	20. Last Time - Dwalin/Bifur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See title but do not fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some violence and sads  
> but it gets better

They’d been fighting against the Orcs for what felt like ages when Dwalin saw him. Just a glimpse. Across the battle field. But Dwalin would know Bifur anywhere.  
  
Bifur. And an Orc. And then…  
  
“Noooo!” Dwalin roared. But in all the other noise his cry disappeared. And it wouldn’t have helped anyway. It was too late. The Orc's axe had hit Bifur hard in the head, and he had fallen.  
  
Filled with rage and grief Dwalin slashed and smashed through any Orcs standing in his way, but when he got to the place he'd last seen Bifur he wasn’t there.  
  
Dwalin spun around. He was sure- it had to be here. But where was he? Dwalin needed to- he couldn't just-  
  
Five dead Orcs later and Dwalin still hadn’t found him.  
  
They- Dwalin should never have left Bifur’s side. He should have stopped this. He-  
  
Roaring again Dwalin swung his axes at the closest Orc.  
  
Around him the fight raged on.  
  
-  
  
When the battle was over Dwalin felt no joy. And why should he? They’d lost so much, and gained… nothing really. More Orcs than Dwarfs had fallen, but what sort of price was that to pay. Not one that Dwalin had wished to offer up, that was for sure.  
  
There was no peace to be find anywhere. Everywhere there were dead and dying, wounded, grieving… and even inside Dwalin’s mind there was a hurricane. Or perhaps a blizzard.

White, hushed, deadly.  
  
Bifur. _Gone_.  
  
How could such a thing be true? Less than a day ago they’d rested side by side on their bedrolls. They’d made love. Kissing while tugging each other off, because that was all there was time for. It had been enough though, being with Bifur always was.   
  
Their beards brushing together as they traded kisses and breath, and Bifur’s cock hot and hard in his fist, the skin so strangely soft and silky but still so very much Bifur.  
  
The rich, sharp smell of Bifur’s skin. The look in his eyes as he came; surprise, always surprise, as if he couldn’t understand that anything could feel like that, and pleasure.   
  
And love.  
  
-  
  
Dwalin wandered aimlessly. He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard Balin calling for him.  
  
“Leave me alone,” Dwalin growled, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were still making their way down his cheeks.  
  
“Bifur is alive.”  
  
And with those words the colour returned to Dwalin's world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bifur and Dwalin being a thing before the Battle of Azanulbizar is something I like a loooot  
> Bifur and Dwalin also being a thing after the battle is something I like even more *nods*


	21. Overcome by desire - Dáin/Thranduil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *snickers*  
> The time has come for the pairing that most of you have gone ??? over

They met when their sons ended up in the same class in high school. And now you might think, yeah, I bet their sons didn’t get along.

However that couldn’t be further from the truth.

-  
  
Thorin (named after Dáin’s cousin, though Dáin claimed it was just a family name whenever he wanted to take Thorin – the elder – down a notch or too) and Legolas bonded very quickly over the belief that all their other classmates were morons, not to mention that their dads were hopeless, overprotective, and did they mention hopeless?  
  
Dáin got to know the son before the dad, same as Thranduil did, as Thorin and Legolas took turns invading each other’s homes.   
  
Sometimes literally, like when Legolas climbed up a wall and into Thorin’s bedroom (scaring the hell out of him when he knocked on the window) but all in all both Thranduil and Dáin moved on from an initial scepticism ("Is his hair supposed to look like that?" "It's called dreadlocks dad." - "Is he a vampire?" "Daaad." "I'm just saying that I've seen milk that's darker." to thinking that their son’s new best friend was a pretty good kid.

It’s worth mentioning that it was quite possible that Thorin and Legolas just maybe started to make Plans. Yes, Plans with a capital P.

Because wouldn’t it be wicked cool if they all could live together? Both of their fathers were alone after all. Not to mention kind of lonely. 

“Maybe grownups don’t have friends,” Thorin suggested to Legolas who made a face. Legolas was rather good at making faces, one of the many reasons Thorin liked him.  
  
-

The first time Dáin and Thranduil met though… (at their kids’ school, during a class meeting) well, it went all right for about ten seconds.  
  
“You must be Thranduil!” Dáin grinned as he put his hand out for the blond to shake. “Fucking hell, did you clone yourself to get your-“  
  
“Please don’t curse,” Thranduil said with a glance at Legolas.  
  
It went downhill from there.

-

A month later (and one failed dinner, one terribly embarrassing incident on the school parking lot, and entirely too much passive – Thranduil – aggressive – Dáin – posturing later) things had not improved.

-

“So, my dad’s still downstairs muttering beneath his breath,” Thorin said into his phone as he climbed the stairs two steps at the time and headed to his room.  
  
“And my dad’s just lacking the white cat to pet to be a model for Super Villains ‘R Us.” Legolas sighed. “Last I saw he was sitting in his armchair, looking as if he plotted the downfall of civilisation. But I think that’s just the downfall of your father.”

-  
  
And it all came to a head when Thorin dragged his father over to Legolas’ and Thranduil’s house, and then proceeded to drag Legolas out of there, telling their fathers that they were staying with Tauriel until the both of them remembered how to act like grown-ups.  
  
(Um, emphasis on _came_ , and _head_.)

-  


“Fuck you’re annoying,” Dáin panted as he pushed Thranduil up against the wall. A framed painting wobbled but didn’t actually fall down. Which Dáin would have considered a shame if he'd not been a little occupied at the time (it was an ugly painting).

“Shut your mouth,” Thranduil hissed, glaring down at Dáin even as he fisted his hands in Dáin’s messy hair and pulled him closer.

“Make me, pretty boy,” Dáin said as he licked a wet stripe up Thranduil’s neck, making sure to rub his beard against that lily white neck.   
  
“Get on your knees and I will.”  
  
“Ask nicely,” Dáin tutted, scraping his teeth lightly against Thranduil’s jaw. “Do you even _need_ to shave?”  
  
“I was not aware you knew what a razor even was.” Thranduil tightened his grip on Dáin’s hair. “Knees. _Now_.”  
  
“And everyone thinks you’re the polite one,” Dáin mused. “Desperate are we? How long since anyone sucked your pretty little cock?”  
  
“ _Little_?” Thranduil spat.  
  
“Ah, so it _is_ pretty then?” Dáin leaned back and grinned, uncaring about the slight pain caused by Thranduil refusing to let go of his hair. “This I got to see.”

-  
  
“Fuck,” Thranduil groaned as Dáin swallowed him down. And he cursed again when Dáin’s half-choked chuckle vibrated around him.  
  
“Please don’t curse,” Dáin teased after he’d pulled off Thranduil’s cock with a wet, obnoxious pop. “My poor innocent ears,” he added as he moved his hand up and down Thranduil’s erection at a leisurely pace that was still enough to make the blond squirm and bite back groans.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Dáin murmured as he gently cupped Thranduil’s stones and gave them a small rub and tug. “I’ll take care of you.”  
  
Before Thranduil could muster a reply Dáin slid his mouth over the head of his cock and sucked the thought right out of his other head.  
  
-  
  
“Fuck yes, a little harder. Yeah, like that. Damn. I won’t break if you-“  
  
“Do you ever stop talking?” Thranduil asked as he tightened his hand on Dáin’s erection.  
  
“Want me to demonstrate on your cock a second time?” Dáin groaned. “Gonna come in my mouth again? You tasted good, I don’t mind. Got more for me?”  
  
Instead of replying Thranduil bent his head and kissed him, licking into Dáin's mouth uncaring that he could taste hints of his own come.  
  
-  
  
It took a few more tries for the insults to turn into praise when they slept togethe, but eventually they got there.   
  
And the boys didn’t need to move in with Tauriel and her parents. (Though they still spent the night every now and again when their parents got that traumatising look in their eyes that meant it was time to abandon ship or buy earplugs.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (yup, I'm totally saying that Dáin can also be a hot single dad, so no need to have Bard just to fill that critera ;) Bard can go snuggle with Lindir and the kids)
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO, PEEEEPS, I'VE JUST SEEN AGE OF ULTRON  
> IT WAS AWEEEESOME!


	22. Lingerie - Bilbo/Frerin/Thorin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still a story behind, but weekend is coming (heh) so don't despair ;)
> 
> sibling incest, duh.
> 
> Very little smut, brain tired. *nods* zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“Hrmbuh-uh!”  
  
“I think we broke him,” Frerin told his brother and Thorin snorted.  
  
“I think you overestimate our appeal.”  
  
“Ahhmm-tuh, whu!”  
  
“Or he’s learnt another language without telling us,” Frerin added after another moment’s consideration. “But I’m convinced he’s still telling us how amazing we look.”  
  
“Wow.” Bilbo finally managed to put together a coherent word. “That’s- you’re wearing- wow.”  
  
Frerin preened and bounced a little on the bed. Thorin snorted again. “Three years, and now we find out what it takes to shut you up.”  
  
“That’s rude,” Bilbo said absently as he slowly dragged his eyes over each and every inch of exposed skin. And non-exposed skin too, as the non-exposed parts of Thorin and Frerin happened to be covered in thin silk and delicate lace. Black for Thorin, dark blue for Frerin. _Stunning_ , was the word that could be used for both.  
  
“Did you- did you _shave_?” he asked Frerin as his gaze stuttered to a halt once he reached the blond’s legs, legs which were looking strangely naked without the dense fuzz of pale hairs that usually covered them.  
  
“I did,” Frerin said proudly. “And it took ages. And two razors.” Pride turned apologetic. “Your razors. Sorry?”  
  
“It’s quite all right,” Bilbo promised, swallowing thickly as he started to walk towards the bed. “But- why?”  
  
“I had stockings…” Frerin looked a little upset. “Had being the operative word. There was a bit of a problem when I tried to put them on.”  
  
“They suddenly acquired a large rip,” Thorin informed Bilbo.  
  
“It was your fault,” Frerin said sulkily. “He’d just put on the knickers,” he explained to Bilbo. “I was somewhat distracted. Naturally. Rather unfair as he was putting _on_ clothes instead of getting undressed.”  
  
Watching how the thin, silky material clung lovingly to the bulge of Thorin’s cock Bilbo could only sympathise with Frerin’s problem.          
  
“Feels kinda nice though,” Frerin said, catching Bilbo’s attention again when he pulled his knee up enough that he could stroke his hand down the length of his leg. “Smooth. But it took _forever_.”  
  
“Please don’t sound as if you’re twelve when we’re in bed together,” Thorin murmured.  
  
“Bilbo isn’t in bed with us yet.” Frerin arched an eyebrow. “And he’s wearing too much clothes.  
  
“And some of us are wearing too little,” Thorin sighed and plucked at the lace hugging his hips. “Not that I see what this has to do with you sounding like a twelve year old.”  
  
“Tell him that he looks very pretty,” Frerin told Bilbo. “So he’ll stop pouting.”  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Bilbo said earnestly, prompting a small flush to appear on Thorin’s face. “And you too, Frerin.”  
  
“You know, I’ve never been a fan of the whole look with your eyes and not your hands, saying,” Frerin said and spread his legs invitingly, drawing Bilbo’s gaze to his crotch. He groaned when Thorin reached out and placed his hand on the straining silk, squeezing Frerin’s cock.  
  
“Clothes,” Thorin said to Bilbo as he started rubbing Frerin's cock through the silk.  
  
“Right,” Bilbo agreed and began undoing buttons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm really tired this is not teasing... more like, falling asleep while smooching *snickers*  
> I promise not to drool on you!
> 
> (answering comments and stuff tomorrow if anyone wonders)


	23. Pillow - Fíli/Kíli/Tauriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli wants fries.

“Hey,” Kíli protested as Tauriel smacked him over the head with a pillow. “Heeeeey,” he added when Fíli did the same. “You just made me lose!” he complained, looking back at the tv-screen where a black and white ‘game over’ screen was blinking. “And no fair using pillows just because you’re on the bed and I’m on the ground, well floor, and-“  
  
“It’s two am,” Tauriel said and leaned back against Fíli, who wrapped his arms around her, holding her against his bare chest.  
  
“And?” Kíli asked.

“I’m not driving you to McDonalds at two am,” Tauriel stated. “And you deserve the pillows for even asking.”  
  
“Burger King?”  
  
Fíli snorted and nuzzled Tauriel’s neck, pressing a small kiss to the skin below her ear.   
  
“Get your own car and then you’re free to go,” Tauriel said, tilting her head to the side to give Fíli more room for kisses.  
  
“It’s really unfair of you to team up on me,” Kíli said and aimed big, brown sad eyes at the two traitors kissing on the bed. “You know what would make me feel better? Fries. That I don’t have to pay for. And dip. The melted cheese kind.”  
  
“No,” Tauriel said. Or sighed really, but the good sort of sigh as Fíli had gone back to kissing her neck, one of his hands cupping her breast through the thin fabric of her tank top, thumb gently rubbing over the nub of her nipple.  
  
“I’ll starve to death during the night,” Kíli said dejectedly. “You’ll find me here in the morning, a shrivelled up shell on the floor, and-“  
  
“Want to be a shrivelled up shell on the bed?” Fíli asked as he moved his hands enough that Tauriel could pull off her top entirely. “Or you can go to the kitchen and see if you find something to eat. We’ll entertain ourselves.”  
  
“The empty space in my stomach is clearly shaped like fries,” Kíli sniffed. “There are no fries in the kitchen. And no cheese dip.”  
  
He did get up from the floor though, but climbed up on the bed instead of trotting off to the kitchen.  
  
“Hello,” he told Tauriel’s breasts after planting his face between them.  
  
“I don’t even know why we keep you around,” Tauriel muttered even as her hands gently carded through Kíli’s messy hair.  
  
“I’m adorable,” Kíli said, somewhat muffled. After pressing a smacking kiss to Tauriel’s left breast he pulled back. “Also, I give awesome head, and Fíli is legally obliged to like me.”  
  
“Legally?” Tauriel asked and Fíli snickered and shifted a little.  
  
“Well, he made me promise I’d always like him when he was ten. I really wanted a dog and asked mum if I could trade Kíli for it.”

“Oral agreements are binding,” Kíli said seriously. “But speaking about oral, and awesome head…” He inched back a little and ran his hand up Tauriel’s leg, stopping to brushing his thumb over the soft cotton at the crotch of her knickers. “I could..?”  
  
“This related to you being hungry?” Fíli teased.  
  
“If there’s fries between either of your legs that’s rather disturbing.” Kíli tilted his head to the side. “Cheese dip… that might work.”  
  
“No that’s also disturbing,” Tauriel said and made a face.  
  
-  
  
They’d only managed to afford a normal sized bed, a queen, which sometimes made sex and sleeping a bit of an logistical issue, but it wasn’t really a problem with Fíli propped up against the headboard, Tauriel sitting in front of him with her legs splayed wide and with Kíli between them.

Fíli’s cock was hard and hot pressed against the small of Tauriel’s back, but he was happy enough just kissing away the moans falling from her lips as Kíli quite enthusiastically ate her out, making her long, strong legs tremble against Fíli’s.  
  
Tauriel broke the kiss as she arched her back, her head pressing back against Fíli’s shoulder and her breasts pushing into his hands.  
  
“Would you say that it’s awesome?” Fíli murmured, lips brushing against her temple.  
  
“Oh yesss,” Tauriel groaned, stroking her hands through Kíli’s hair, messing it up further.   
  
Kíli made a happy little wriggle, and likely did something with his tongue as well as Tauriel moaned and clutched at him.  
  
Fíli snorted. “I’m not entirely sure that mum and dad didn’t just switch my brother for a puppy. I could have sworn saw a tail wag just now. And it would explain the eyes and the demand to be fed all the time.”  
  
Kíli pulled back and licked his shining lips. “Are you calling me a dog?”  
  
“He’s not, don’t stop.” Tauriel pulled her knees up a little.  
  
“Will you take me to the drive in if I-“  
  
Tauriel didn’t even hesitate before she yes this time and Kíli grinned and dove back in, tongue first.  
  
“Are you trading sexual favours for fries?” Fíli asked, half-amused, half-exasperated, and still very much turned on.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope they don't need to get up early.


	24. Unexpected - Bifur/Ori

“What’s this?” Ori asked as Bifur handed her two bits of paper. “Is it- they’re- _plane tickets_?” Looking up at Bifur she quickly did the sign for airplane, almost poking him in the chest as she did so.  
  
Bifur nodded and grinned widely, cupping his hand around the back of Ori’s to hold it still as he pointed to a series of words on the first ticket.  
  
“We’re, we’re going to _Rome_?” Ori’s voice had climbed several notes during the short sentence, not that Bifur was able to hear it, but his grin widened anyway as she squealed and threw her arms around him.  
  
-  
  
The next weeks included a lot of planning, and when Ori walked off the plane at the Leonardo da Vinci airport it was with a very thick notebook in her carry-on luggage, containing everything that they absolutely _needed_ to do during the four days they’d be staying.  
  
She’d asked Bifur what he wanted to do but he’d just smiled and shaken his head and told her that it was _her_ trip, a present.  
  
-  
  
They’d crossed off the Colosseum, Fontana di Trevi and Pantheon on Ori’s list and were heading for the Vatican when the skies opened and a torrent of water decided that now was the time to make a grand entrance.  
  
Gasping from the sudden cold as much from the sheer shock Ori tugged on Bifur’s hand and together they ran for the nearest café, ducking in beneath the blue canopy.  
  
“Clouds!” Ori puffed and raised her hands to wave them around in motions the sign.  
  
‘ _Clouds_ ,’ Bifur agreed, smoothly transitioning to: ‘ _Rain_.’  
  
Ori looked over her shoulder and snorted before looking back up at Bifur. “Yes. Rain indeed.”  
  
It didn’t take long for her to begin to shiver and Bifur made a small concerned noise and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up against his chest.  
  
It did made Ori feel a little warmer, and worked _very_ well to distract her from even thinking about it as Bifur smelled really good and felt so wonderfully nice. Not to mention how the rain had made his shirt cling to the broad curve of his shoulders and his strong arms an-  
  
They didn’t make it to the Vatican that day, instead they took a cab back to the hotel room - Ori trying her best to apologise in Italian for how they were dripping on the seats during the ride - to change clothes.  
  
Only as they were changing they ended up getting little... distracted.  
  
Though to be fair, getting fucked while looking out at the skyline of Rome might have been mentioned in Ori’s notes somewhere. Might have to do it again too, since it was still raining heavily it was mostly a blur of colour and lights and grey and darkness and their reflections in the glass.  
  
Braced against the window sill Ori was rocked forward with every roll of Bifur’s hips, and her breaths were beginning to fog up the window.  
  
Perhaps for the best because if anyone saw them she’d just die from embarrassment. __  
  
Might be worth it though, she thought faintly as the slick slide of Bifur’s cock in her arse made her knees feel weak and made pleasure coil up tight in her belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caught up!
> 
> and yeah, in a way it's not really 'relevant' with the trans!Ori tag as this isn't a story with that as a _theme_  
>  But I know this Ori is trans so *shrugs*


	25. Seduction - Dwalin/Dori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, today was not a good day for writing :O words in syrup this was  
> And basically no smut *sighs* oh well, new day tomorrow

Dori knew that many found him to be beautiful and desirable and it had been both a blessing and a curse. A good example of the latter was when he realised that he’d fallen in lust and perhaps even love with Dwalin, only then to realise that he had no idea at all of how to seduce someone.  
  
It was embarrassing to admit, but he’d not ever needed this particular skill before. When he’d fancied someone… he’d either done nothing or it had been enough to give them a sweet look and they’d come running.  
  
Dwalin… hadn’t.  
  
After a sweet look and a smile he’d blushed and then avoided meeting Dori’s eyes for the rest of the day. But Dori still caught him sneaking glances every so often.  
  
Dori knew all the rules for courting, but it would be so _terribly_ forward of him to jump right into those protocols even before they’d as much as had a proper conversation. And especially so considering that he wasn’t entirely sure of what sort of feelings he had for Dwalin.  
  
Dwalin was very attractive, tall and broad and handsome, and just looking at his hands made Dori think about what they might feel like on his skin. Same with Dwalin’s beard.  
  
But Dori didn’t just want to go to bed with him, he wouldn’t at all mind waking up cuddled up next to Dwalin’s solid form, nor being allowed to press sleepy kisses against his shoulder. But did that mean that there was love involved?  
  
It was all horribly inappropriate (especially when Dori caught himself sneaking glances, at Dwalin’s arse and crotch no less) and he was at a loss on what to do.   
  
He _could_ ask Nori. Nori would probably be able to tell If Dwalin was shy or just uncomfortable because he was not interested, and he would also be able to give Dori suggestions on how to proceed, because if Nori ever found himself at a loss for words or without a plan then the world as they knew it would probably cease to exist.  
  
But if he asked Nori… it felt like cheating.   
  
He was a grown Dwarf. Surely he should be able to approach Dwalin without first asking for help from his younger brother?  
  
Yes, he should.  
  
Having made that decision Dori began instead to form his own plans.   
  
-  
  
“Um, Nori?” Ori scuffed the toe of his right boot against the ground. “Have you noticed that Dori is acting a little… strange lately?”  
  
They both glanced over to where Dori was sitting, looking perfectly normal. For the moment.   
  
“Yeah, but don’t tell him that you’ve noticed,” Nori snorted. “I’ve got coin riding on this.”  
  
“On Dori acting strange?”  
  
“The reason behind it,” Nori smirked and leaned a little closer to Ori, lowering his voice. “If Dori and Dwalin don’t manage to kiss before we reach Erebor I win coin. If they do Bofur wins, but I get a happy brother, so win-win.”  
  
“Dwalin?” Ori repeated and Nori shook his head with exaggerate sadness.  
  
“Don’t tell me that both of my brothers are blind.”  
  
“Dori likes Dwalin?”  
  
“And Dwalin likes Dori,” Nori sighed as he put his arm over Ori’s shoulders, grabbing him and giving him a small shake. “But don’t tell either of them yet, let’s see if I can get some coin out of this.”  
  
“So when Dori spent an hour yesterday brushing his beard…”  
  
“That was to impress Dwalin.”  
  
“And when he _had_ to take off his shirt to patch up a tear so small I couldn’t even see it…”  
  
“Dwalin.”  
  
“And yesterday when he wanted to discuss battle techniques? I was so surprised. Dori doesn’t really like violence.”  
  
“Finding common ground?”  
  
Ori hummed thoughtfully. “But if he likes Dwalin then why was he getting cosy with Balin a few nights ago?”

 

“To be honest I’m not sure what he was thinking when he did that.”  


-  
  
What Dori had been thinking was that while he wouldn’t ask for tips from his own brother, it wouldn’t hurt to subtly inquire about a few things from _Dwalin’s_ brother.  
  
Discretely of course. However he hadn’t realised that subtly and discretely viewed from the outside would look as if he was sharing intimate secrets with Balin, especially when Balin hinted that Dwalin might very well indeed return Dori’s interest, as this caused Dori to blush and giggle like he was forty all over again.  
  
He couldn’t understand why Dwalin was in a horrible mood the next day.  
  
-  
  
Nori still had to pay Bofur those coins in the end though, because after they’d escaped the Elven king’s halls and Dori had made sure that Nori and Ori got out of there in one piece, he went over to Dwalin to assure himself of the same, and accidentally ended up kissing him.  
  
He’d honestly just meant to thank Dwalin for fishing Ori out of his barrel, a small peck on his cheek, nothing more. Dori would have done the same for anyone really. But Dwalin turned his head just as Dori stretched up and- well. Kiss. Not to mention two very red blushes.   
  
But from there they at least started to make some actual progress.   
  
-  
  
Dwalin cursed as the gold coins beneath him began to slide away in a small avalanche and Dori; sitting in Dwalin’s lap, tightened his grip on Dwalin’s shoulders, making Dwalin curse again when Dori’s grip turned just a little too firm.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Dori immediately pulled his hands away, and would have tumbled backwards if Dwalin hadn’t shifted enough to catch him. They ended up falling anyway, Dwalin landing with his back on the gold and Dori on top of him.   
  
Amazingly enough Dwalin’s cock had managed to stay inside Dori throughout all of that, but it slipped out when Dori squirmed up to straddle Dwalin’s stomach inside of just lying on top of him like a sad excuse for a blanket.  
  
“This seemed like a better idea in theory,” Dwalin sighed as he trailed his hands down Dori’s back.   
  
“Agreed,” Dori said, stretching his neck enough to press a kiss to the corner of Dwalin’s mouth, staying there when a big warm hand cupped the back of his neck, and for a while the two of them traded lazy kisses.  
  
“Want to continue here or should we find some blankets to bed down somewhere?” Dori asked, stroking his hand down Dwalin’s chest.   
  
“How ‘bout you lying on your back and I suck you off?”  
  
Dori blinked and his hand stilled for a moment before it went back to petting. “We could do that.”


	26. Slow - Thorin/Balin/Dwalin

Thorin is crap about letting himself admit that he needs something. Be that food, sleep, or love. He’s always putting everyone else first. And when you do that for long enough, you’ll lose yourself. You’ll not only forget what you need, you’ll forget what you want.  
  
Luckily, there are two people in Thorin’s life that will look out for him no matter what.  
  
-  
  
  
Thorin groans low in his throat as Dwalin pushes in with another finger, the _fourth_ , and Balin swallows the noise and smiles into their kiss, nudging their noses together.  
  
“Good?”  
  
“Yes,” Thorin rasps. “Yes.”  
  
Thorin’s intricately braided hair is spread out on the pillow below his head and Balin gently runs his fingers over a slim, dark braid. When he reaches the end of it he tugs, and Thorin groans again.  
  
“We’ll undo the braids afterwards,” Balin murmurs.  
  
“Should have done it before we started,” Dwalin rumbles, twisting his fingers and dragging a low moan from Thorin’s chest. 

“We can do it in the bath.”  
  
“Could have done it in the bath before we started.”  
  
“I believe that would have _led_ to starting,” Balin says drily. “It did last time.”  
  
“And everyone enjoyed it plenty.”  
  
“There was water all over the floor.”  
  
“Can you argue about this later?” Thorin tightens the leg he’s got hiked up over Dwalin’s shoulder and rocks down against the fingers spreading him open.  
  
“Full sentences now,” Dwalin says to Balin and shakes his head. “All your fault.”  
  
He receives unimpressed looks from both of his bedmates.  
  
“If mean to have me incoherent you better-“ Thorin trails off in a silent cry, his mouth open and his eyes glazing over as Dwalin continues to tap his fingers against that special spot while at the same time rubbing the flat of his thumb over the sensitive skin just behind Thorin’s stones.  
  
“Dwalin,” Balin sighs.  
  
“He’s not complaining,” Dwalin shrugs, hunching down enough that he can get his mouth on Thorin’s cock where it rests flushed and fat against his belly.


	27. Unrequited - Kíli/Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess Kíli might have a crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (not actually unrequited at all because I'm a sap and fail at unrequited)
> 
> ((and very not historically accurate, because historically accurate always leads to at least 110% more angst))

“I think I’ll go riding today,” Kíli declared during breakfast and from his place across the large wooden table Fíli snorted.  
  
Kíli mourned that they were sitting too far apart for her to kick him, but at least it seemed as if their parents hadn’t noticed. Or well, her mother probably knew already, she knew everything. But it was best if her father didn’t. He was horrible at keeping secrets.  
  
“Will you be riding somewhere in particular, dear sister?” Fíli grinned at her. “Perhaps to the farms east of the city? I know you enjoy the… sights.”  
  
Right. She best kill her brother now while it would only be fratricide and not regicide.   
  
Not seeing that his daughter was busy glaring daggers Víli turned towards her and smiled. “It’s a lovely day to go outside.”   
  
“Perhaps we should join you,” Fíli said innocently, holding his goblet out for one of the servants to refill it.  
  
Víli perked up, but Dís placed her hand over his. “We need to join Thorin in court today. Fíli, that means you as well.”  
  
Kíli sent her mother a grateful look.  
  
-  
  
“There is no reason for you to keep it a secret,” Dís said after the last of the handmaidens had left.  
  
Dís had cornered her in her rooms just as Kíli had finished changing clothes and now Kíli was feeling less grateful, which made her feel guilty.   
  
Her mother only wanted was what best for her, it was not her fault that Kíli’s feet were yelling at her to keep moving already, or they’d not get anywhere at all before it was already sunset. Nevermind that sunset was many hours away.  
  
“Not from your father at least,” Dís continued, giving her a meaningful look. “And while your uncle might fret a little at first you know he will come around. My darling girl,” she added, cupping Kíli’s cheek. “Neither of us plan to wed you to anyone against your will. If you’ve met a farmer’s boy all that matters is if he-“  
  
“There’s no boy,” Kíli protested. “Truly.”  
  
Her mother’s blue eyes looked searchingly into her own. “No boy.”  
  
Kíli shook her head. “I swear.”  
  
“Then… is there a girl?”

Kíli felt a hot flush move up her neck. “It doesn’t matter,” she murmured. “Nothing is going to come of it.”  
  
Humming beneath her breath Dís leaned in and brushed a kiss over Kíli’s forehead. “Your uncle will fret less if it’s a girl. A girl can’t get you with child.”  
  
“Mother!”  
  
-  
  
Like Kíli had said, nothing would come of it. There was a girl, yes. A beautiful, wonderful girl with kind eyes and curly hair and the sweetest smile. But Kíli didn’t even know her name.   
  
And while the girl might know Kíli’s that was only because everyone knew Princess Kíli.   
  
Kíli didn’t want to be _Princess_ Kíli. She didn’t want the beautiful girl to think of _Princess_ Kíli when she smiled.   
  
People often thought that they owed her things just because she was a princess. Or they thought that they had to dislike her just because she was a princess.   
  
Kíli didn’t like either of those things, whatever people thought of her she wanted it to be because of who she was, and not what she had been born as, and she was forever grateful that Fíli had been born before her because she could only assume that being Queen would have been even worse.  
  
-  
  
There was no sight of the girl as Kíli rode through the farmlands and she tried to tell herself that it was for the best. The pretty girl would marry a handsome boy and have sickeningly lovely children together, and Kíli didn’t need to see that. It would just hurt.  
  
As the sun was hot and high in the sky Kíli steered her mare towards the lake. She had been down there before and the water was clear and sweet, and Arrow deserved a drink before they had to head back.   
  
Bofur and Nori followed her at a distance, knowing her well enough to see that she was in no mood to talk, but also knowing that Thorin would hang them up by their balls if they let something happen to her.  
  
Getting down from Arrow Kíli led her the final bit down to the water, smiling at the pleased noise her horse made as she realised what they were doing.  
  
“Oh, hello.”  
  
Kíli’s eyes widened until they were as round as the moon and nearly as large. It was the beautiful girl. She’d appeared out from behind a bush growing at the edge of where grass met sand.  
  
She was dressed only in a thin, beige shift reaching no further down than mid-thigh. Her normally riotous curls were now tamed, diminished by the water still dripping from them.   
  
The shift hugged generous curves and clung rather enticingly to a few of them and Kíli felt a low burn start in her stomach, as well as an unreasonable annoyance at the bundle of clothes the girl held in her arms as they covered most of her front.  
  
“Shouldn’t I have said hello?” The girl bit her lip. “I’m sorry, your, um, Highness?”  
  
Kíli just barely managed to hide a wince. The use of the title, even though it wasn’t strictly speaking correct, was like being dunked in cold water. How could she be so crass to stand here and all but ogle this poor girl. Regardless how desirable Kíli found her she had not asked to be gawked at.  
  
“No need to apologise. I won’t disturb you any longer.” Kíli tugged lightly at Arrows’ reins and clicked her tongue.  
  
“You didn’t disturb me at all,” the girl said, taking a step towards Kíli, making arrow neigh softly. “I’d already finished with my bath. The water is quite nice if you’d like to-“ A pink blush dusted round cheeks. “Perhaps not.”  
  
“What’s your name?” Kíli asked after a short struggle with herself. This might be the only chance she would get to learn it.  
  
“It’s Bilbo, your Majesty.”  
  
Kíli smiled. “Only Kings and Queens are called that. I’m neither.”  
  
“What are princesses called then?” Bilbo asked, head tilted to the side. “If you don’t mind me asking.”  
  
“ _I_ am called Kíli.”  
  
“It’s not… against the law for someone like me to call you that?”  
  
“Not if I’m allowed to call you Bilbo in turn.”  
  
The smile was even sweeter now that it was aimed at her and not someone else.  
  
-  
  
A few moons after that meeting Kíli and Bilbo were once again together at the lake, now watched over by Bifur who thankfully was the very soul of discretion.  
  
The sky was sprinkled with stars and the moon hung heavy just above a horizon that had recently been painted rose and gold with the last rays of the setting sun.   
  
“It’s cooler at the bottom,” Kíli remarked as she moved further out into the water.  
  
“I think it’s because the sunshine doesn’t get that far down,” Bilbo said, ducking down enough that the water reached her shoulders. When she straightened back up again the drops clinging to her chest and arms shone as if they were made of diamonds, and Kíli was enchanted.  
  
“Strange,” Kíli murmured. “Considering that you are a ray of sunshine given human shape.”  
  
Bilbo gave her a fond look. “You’re quoting something, aren’t you?”  
  
Kíli sniffed. “I will neither confirm nor deny.”  
  
She spluttered when Bilbo splashed water at her.   
  
The ensuing splash fight was arguably won by Bilbo, if only because Kíli cheated when she tackled Bilbo down into the water.  
  
Spluttering; Bilbo, and laughing; Kíli, they got back to their feet and Bilbo grabbed the thick braid of Kíli’s hair and tugged her down far enough to kiss. Then, when Kíli was suitably distracted Bilbo hooked her foot behind Kíli’s leg and with a jerk and a push Kíli was tipped down into the water.  
  
Up on the hill from where he was keeping watch Bifur snorted and shook his head before turning his attention back to the little horse he was carving out of a block of wood, though not before making a mental note to tell Nori that the princess needed further lessons in hand-to-hand combat.  
  
Bilbo squeaked when Kíli lifted her up out of the water and her hands clutched at Kíli’s shoulders.  
  
“May I have a kiss if I set you down gently?” Kíli grinned as she spun around, her hands clasped together beneath Bilbo’s arse; Bilbo’s soft, warm body pressed against hers.  
  
“You may have two,” Bilbo promised, inhaling sharply when Kíli pressed her lips to one of the pink nipples hovering just in front of her face.  
  
“One,” Kíli said, loosening her grip enough that Bilbo could slide down to stand in the water once more.  
  
“Two,” Bilbo breathed as she rocked up on her toes so she could reach Kíli's smiling mouth.

The moonlight leached the colour from Bilbo’s hair and skin, and the pale light made her appear to be silver instead of her usual gold. But she was beautiful, and so very desirable.  
  
Kíli could feel an echo of her heartbeat between her legs as they stroked and caressed each other, above and below the gentle embrace of the water that surrounded them, and while her breasts weren’t as generous as Bilbo’s her nipples were just as eagerly awaiting the touch of curious fingers.  
  
Kíli was almost surprised that the two of them did not cause the lake to boil, or at least for steam to rise from around them.  
  
“May I?” Bilbo murmured, sliding her hand down Kíli’s stomach, between her legs.  
  
As her reply Kíli widened her stance and leaned down for another kiss.  
  
-  
  
They ended up in the shallow water closer to the shore, the water just tickling at their skin.  
  
Bilbo keened into Kíli’s mouth as Kíli traced her fingers in circles around and over her pearl, and she shuddered and shook as her pleasure peaked only moments later.  
  
Kíli was not far behind, helped along with Bilbo's hot mouth tracing invisible patterns on her skin as she gently rubbed her knuckles up and down Kíli's slick folds, letting Kíli rock down against her and teasing out her climax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps!  
> We're beginning to get towards the end of this. Three more days.  
> Don't answer now, but if you could pick one story that I'd continue, expand on, etc, which one would it be? Why?
> 
> Think about it, check out the last three, and then on the final day you could let me know :D Maybe it'll happen!


	28. Make-up sex - Dwalin/Bofur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really really short! Sorry!

Dwalin stared, his jaw hanging down in a rather unattractive manner.  
  
Bofur squirmed. “Does it look stupid? It looks stupid, doesn’t it?”  
  
Dwalin pounced.

Bofur made a _very_ manly squeal as he ended up on us back on the bed, more or less crushed into it by a decently sized Dwalin.  
  
“Not stupid at all,” Dwalin rumbled, eyes flitting between Bofur’s black-lined eyes to his glossy red lips. When Bofur tilted his face up for a kiss Dwalin shook his head. “I don’t want to mess it up.”  
  
“So that’s a no to my plan of sucking you off?” Bofur asked.  
  
Dwalin blinked.  
  
And his distraction only got worse when Bofur pouted the slightest bit.  
  
"I really wanted to suck you."  
  
-  
  
Dwalin groaned as Bofur swallowed him down, as much from the _hot, wet, so **good** _ as from seeing Bofur’s painted lips stretch around his cock, and when Bofur looked up at him; eyes looking even brighter than normal with the smudged blackness around them, well, it almost ended right there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think it was going to be about the other kind of make-up sex? *innocent look*


	29. Bofur/Nori - Camping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori was still trying to figure out if Bofur was suggestive on purpose or if accidents just kept happening.

Nori was almost asleep when he heard the faint clink of metal on metal; a belt buckle being opened, and then the rustling of cloth.

After that came a few moments of silence, followed by a shuddering breath. And a small, quickly silenced moan.  
  
Neither of these sounds were out of the ordinary in their camp, but they weren’t usually made in such rapid succession by the same person.   
  
Opening his eyes in the smallest of slits Nori looked in the direction where he expected to find Bofur, both because the sounds had come from the direction where he’d last seen Bofur sitting on watch, and because that moan had sounded… not familiar exactly as Nori hadn’t heard Bofur moaning before, but rather like he expected Bofur’s moans to sound like.   
  
Not that he’d been thinking about it.  
  
Fine. He’d been thinking about it. But not _that_ often.   
  
The small fire burning sent golden-edged shadows dancing over the camp, and in despite the low light it was easy enough to find Bofur as he was the only one not curled up on his bedroll. The only one not sleeping. Well, except for Nori that was.  
  
He was sitting with his back to Nori and the other members of the company, but the steady, rhythmic up and down motion of his right arm gave Nori a pretty good idea of what he was doing.   
  
Unseen, Nori grinned. How daring. How… _interesting_.  
  
He’d not expected something like that from Bofur.

Nori’s own cock had already begun to stiffen in his trousers, but the poor thing had begun to perk up over just about anything lately. It was probably wondering if he did in fact remember that it did other things than piss.  
  
But there’d not been a lot of opportunity to do anything about it, so Nori had accepted that he’d be getting a cockstand from Dwalin bending over to adjust his boots, or from a glimpse of Bilbo’s wrist, and, fine, fairly often from something Bofur did. Or said. Or when he stood just a little closer than necessary and Nori could smell him, not to mention feel the warmth that appeared to be radiating from him.  
  
Nori was still trying to figure out if Bofur was suggestive on purpose or if accidents just kept happening.   
  
Like this. Did Bofur know that he was awake… Or was this just a happy coincidence?  
  
-  
  
When Nori crouched down by his side, seemingly appearing out of thin air as if by magic, Bofur was convinced that the red-head scared a century or so off his life.  
  
“Don’t stop on my account,” Nori purred as Bofur scrambled to cover himself up as quickly as he could without accidentally snapping his cock off in the process. The stupid, greedy thing didn't realise that now was a bad time to get even stiffer, then again it always got much too excited when Nori sounded all sultry like.  
  
“Funny,” Bofur said, shaking his head, refusing to meet Nori’s eyes.   
  
“Not what I was going for,” Nori shrugged. “I meant it, don’t stop on my account. Though if you want to tell me to fuck off, you’ve of course the right to do so.”  
  
When Nori licked his lips Bofur’s gaze was helplessly drawn to the flash of pink tongue.  
  
“Want me to fuck off?” Nori repeated, gracefully moving from a crouch to kneeling on the ground in front of Bofur. “Or do you want me to get you off? You won't even need to touch me if you don't want to. I love sucking cock."  
  
The sound that made its way past Bofur's lips could have been called a squeak, but he rallied bravely enough and slowly moved his hands away from his crotch, his attention flitting between Nori's mouth and the intense look in hooded green eyes.   
  
"Nice," Nori said approvingly as he wrapped nimble fingers around Bofur's cock; which jumped eagerly in his grasp. "Don't come until I tell you," Nori warned before ducking down and taking Bofur into his mouth.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping you hot and bothered until tomorrow *snickers* YES I AM EVIL
> 
> Last one tomorrow then! And like I said before, think about which of these you'd pick to see more of.


	30. Dreamy - Balin/Dori/Bifur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balin remembered the first dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (First story for the pairing?)

They met for the first time in Hobbiton.  
  
Dori and Bifur met outside a round green door, and their distraction might have been what caused the lot of them to tumble into Bilbo Baggins’ hallway like a rockslide.  
  
(Dori hadn’t meant to stumble into Bombur, but he he’d been a little preoccupied with not believing his eyes. And Bifur hadn’t meant to walk into Óin’s back, but he’d not been able to look away from Dori.)  
  
Only moments later they both met Balin. For the first time.

-

Balin remembered the first dream.  
  
They were sitting in the middle of a field when he found them, smiling at each other. He felt as if he was intruding, but then they turned to smile at him.  
  
That’s when he realised that they were naked, and so was he. And they were _beautiful_.  
  
-  


Dori remembered his favourite dream. Well, his favourite _sort_ of dream. He loved when he got to be in the middle, regardless of the details.  
  
Having Balin or Bifur inside of him while being inside one of them, or having one of them suck him as the other’s cock slid slickly in and out of his arse; making it almost impossible for Dori to decide if he wanted to rock his hips back against the thick length that filled him so well, or forward into the wet, warm heat of a talented mouth.  
  
He liked those dreams most of all.  
  
Sometimes they just rested together afterwards, snug and comfortable with Dori bookended on each side, and they stayed like that until Dori woke up.  
  
-

Bifur remembered the last dream. None of them knew it would be the last, but at the same time they knew that something had changed.  
  
He felt desperate, and when he clutched and grabbed and held and claimed all of it was returned in equal share by his lovers.  
  
At the time Bifur thought it was due to the quest. He’d expected to dream even after leaving Ered Luin, because why wouldn’t he, and indeed he had.  
  
As soon as he’d fallen asleep at the foot of a hill, in the camp he and Bofur and Bombur had made for the night, he’d been somewhere else. A room he didn’t recognise, but with people he’d know anywhere.

“You’re late,” his mithril informed him primly before reaching for him, tugging him down into a kiss. When they parted his diamond was there to cup his face, gently touching their foreheads together (part of Bifur was always surprised by the absence of the axe in his dreams), before brushing their lips together.

The kiss had not stayed gentle for long.  
  
Clothes were discarded carelessly as hands greedy for skin pulled and tugged and even ripped.  
  
Bifur wasn’t sure how he’d come to be there, but suddenly he was lying on his back on a soft bed, his diamond kissing the breath out of his lungs as his mithril licked a hot, wet line up his cock, stopping to flick his tongue at the head of it, licking up the beads of pre-come that had formed whilst making low, pleased moans.

The next thing he remembered was thick fingers rocking in and out of his core.  
  
Then suckling at the small pink nubs decorating his mithril’s generous chest; silky skin over muscle amply padded with pleasingly plump softness.  
  
Then lying on his side and being speared from behind by a long, good cock, and what little breath Bifur had left was then stolen by his mithril who had moved up to kiss him; rocking his own hard length against Bifur’s stomach.  
  
  
As always Bifur had woken with a smile on his face, one that had grown ever more wistful over the years.

 _Next time_ , he promised himself as he stretched and made sure Bofur and Bombur were sleeping peacefully. Next time he would remember to ask for their names.  
  
It was strange, but he always forgot to ask when in the dream. And they’d never asked for his either. But next time he _would_ remember.  
  
Only there was no next time.

-  
  
"It's you," Dori - his name was _Dori_ \- breathed and the next thing Bifur knew he had his arms full of softly weeping mithril. _Dori._ His diamond, _Balin_ \- his name was _Balin_ \- pulled them both into his arms, his eyes wet as well.  
  
-

They didn’t need dreams anymore. They had something better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Balin, Dori and Bifur are all a bit distracted for a while there in Bilbo's smial. 
> 
> To mention one thing, Neither Balin nor Dori knew about the axe as Bifur didn't have it in his dreams. They suspected that something had happened, because there was a while when Bifur wasn't with them in the dreams, and then when he came back he was... quieter. But they didn't know. 
> 
> Anyway, of course just realising that the other two are actually real people and not dreams... that is a huge things.  
> But they'll be all right. ^W^
> 
> Okay peeps! Come one, come all (no pun intended) and tell me which story that would get your vote for a continuation/expansion.  
> Thirty to pick from. Place your bets, lol

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Price of an Axe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3813994) by [Lygtemanden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lygtemanden/pseuds/Lygtemanden)




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